


Dangan Ronpa: Hopeless Existence

by RocGate13



Series: Dangan Ronpa: Hopeful Cry [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dangan Ronpa & Super Dangan Ronpa 2 Spoilers, Fangan Ronpa, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocGate13/pseuds/RocGate13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric Felikson is the Ultimate Lucky Student, who has never had a troublesome day in his life. But all of that changes when he ends up trapped inside the Pandora Institute for Talented Youth, along with fifteen other students, and held at the mercy of the twisted Monobear. Will Eric and his new companions be able to triumph over despair? Or has his legendary luck finally deserted him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Beginning/End - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is, the spin-off of Dangan Ronpa: (Éa)Dóchas that I mentioned at the end of that fic. Despite this story being listed as the follow-up to (Éa)Dóchas, there really isn't too strong a connection between the two fics. The two can be read in either order.  
> Naturally, there will still be spoilers for both Dangan Ronpa and Dangan Ronpa 2, particularly later on in the story.  
> Enjoy!

Throughout history, mankind has always strived to achieve greatness.  One man, a pioneer who was truly ahead of his time, sought to study and, by that token, capture the so-called spark that he believed was the source of all great human achievements: talent. That man went on to found Hope’s Peak Academy, one of the world’s most successful and influential educational institutions. The founder’s ideals and beliefs were passed down from one generation to the next, all in the hope of cultivating and nurturing talent in the youth of Japan. The school was extremely exclusive: in order to attend the institution, one must be considered to be the absolute best in one’s field of expertise, regardless of what the “field” may be. General opinion was that graduating this school led to certain success in life.

The unique methods and goals of Hope’s Peak Academy proved to be extremely popular, and led to a series of imitators across the globe. The United States, Australia, France, Germany and China, among others, all established their own variations on the tried-and-tested Hope’s Peak formula. Some of these nations succeeded in their endeavours to mimic Hope’s Peak Academy, and thus were able to build a future full of hope for the upcoming generations. One such establishment was the Pandora Institute for Talented Youth. Constructed in England during the nineteenth century, in the midst of the Industrial Revolution, Pandora took advantage of the advancing economy to further the British peoples’ hopes for the future. Although the school’s sphere of influence began rather small, it eventually expanded to include the majority of the continent. Pandora began to be seen as a shining beacon of hope, not just for Great Britain, but the entirety of Europe.

No ordinary student could enrol there. To be accepted, one must first have been scouted, before being invited by the school itself.

The school followed the same principle as Hope’s Peak by only inducting a class of sixteen students every year to carry on their specialised education. These sixteen students were chosen because they displayed a high level of skill in a certain field of expertise, worthy of the title “Ultimate”. The school board even went so far as to hold a lottery each year; the name that was removed from the draw would become one of the school’s students, on the basis of being the “Ultimate Lucky Student”.

Eric Felikson knew from the moment he woke up on that fine, early summer’s day, that his name was the one that had been drawn. Sure enough, just before noon, he was called from his boring History class to visit the headmaster’s office. There, he was informed that he would indeed be attending Pandora Institute come September that year. He was hardly even surprised – why would he be? After all, he was – and always had been – the Ultimate Lucky Student.

Ever since the day he’d been born, Eric’s life had been filled with nothing but good fortune and success. The hospital he had been born in received a cheque from a wealthy businessman, a friend of Eric’s father. The hospital then opened a new ward, which saved Eric’s life when he had to be rushed into intensive care a few years later. He’d been involved with several car collisions, only for everyone to miraculously escape unscathed. He’d been almost struck by lightning no less than a dozen times. Every girl he’d ever fancied had wanted him back. He’d won the local lottery three times over. He never _ever_ lost a game of chance, and rarely a game of skill. People who were near to him often found that the boy’s incredible luck would rub off on them, and so Eric never had a shortage of friends.

Every day in Eric Felikson’s life was the best day of his life, and he knew that would never change. Of _course_ he would get accepted into the most famous and influential school in Europe. It’s what he’d been born to do.

Eric’s parent, a banker and a nurse, both tried their best to keep a level head on their only child’s shoulders. The money from his lottery wins was wisely squirreled away into a bank account, only to be withdrawn when young Eric turned eighteen. Nevertheless, they were somewhat dismayed to see their son grow arrogant, drifting through life without a care. And so, they were overjoyed to have him enrol in Pandora, in order for him to meet like-minded, talented individuals. They hoped that the experience would put his life and abilities into perspective. Similarly, Eric was thrilled to be given the chance to spend time with other people as amazing as he was.

At the start of September 2010, just after Eric’s fifteenth birthday, a sleek black car pulled up outside his city home to take him to his new life in the institute. Eric had spent most of his life living in London, and the prospect of travelling away from home only excited him more. It was a three-hour journey from his home to Pandora’s campus, and he spent the trip in rapturous anticipation.

This was it. He was about to begin his new life in the Pandora Institute for Talented Youth. He just knew that the other students would accept him with ease: after all, who wouldn’t want to be friends with the Ultimate Lucky Student?

And so, when the car pulled up to the grand bronze gates of the school, Eric all but leaped from his seat. He bent over to pick up a two pence piece that he spotted lying on the side of the road. By the time he had stood back up again, the car had already driven off.

For the first time, Eric laid eyes upon the majesty of the Pandora Institute. It was a towering building, with over four floors in order to accommodate all of its students and staff, as well as hold all of the classrooms and other facilities. Eric had heard it was modelled after a famous Japanese school, which explained its unique appearance.

_The moment of truth._

Eric took a deep breath, held it, then released it, grinning as he did so.

“It all begins today,” he muttered to himself.

He stepped through the gates, striding towards the school’s great entranceway. As the institute loomed over him, he felt a surge of hope rise up within him. He reached the front door, savouring the beginning of his new school life, before pushing forwards and passing through the doorway.

That was the last thing he remembered.


	2. Prologue: Beginning/End - Part 2

The first thing Eric felt when he came to was the cold sensation of a hard, wooden surface pressing against his face. His head ached, and his mouth was dry. He decided to lift up his head and open his eyes, and he blinked as a dimly-lit room came into a view. He was sitting behind a small, wooden desk, in a plastic chair that creaked slightly as he shifted uncomfortably.

Eric’s thoughts were scattered, and he tried to pick them back up one-by-one. Where was he? A classroom, obviously. But how did he get here? What was the last thing he could remember…?

Of course! He’d been about to enter the school that would be his new home for the next few years: Pandora Institute. And then…what? Hadn’t he gone inside? Was that where he was right now – inside the school? The room he had found himself in was definitely intended for educational purposes; posters covered the walls, and a blackboard dominated the wall at the head of the room. But something strange caught Eric’s eye: where were the windows? When he scanned the classroom, all he could see were giant, iron plates bolted into the wall. Were they covering the windows? If so, then for what reason?

_What the hell is going on?_

Although his memories still confused him, his thoughts were beginning to reorder themselves. His gaze fell upon a clock on the wall above the blackboard. The time read 9:30. Something clicked in his head – wasn’t there supposed to be an assembly at nine o’clock? Had he missed it?

Eric shoved himself away from the desk before him and lurched to his feet. He could still make the end of the assembly, surely. He was the Ultimate Lucky Student, after all. How would they be able to do anything without him there? He cursed himself for falling asleep in a classroom on one of the most important days of his life.

Eric’s legs were oddly stiff, and his shoulders ached, and so he practically staggered out of the classroom and down a narrow corridor. He passed a few more of those iron plates and even what looked like a security camera. He’d known that Pandora was a serious place, but he hadn’t expected things to be so…intense. Was bolting the windows and monitoring the halls really necessary?

The corridor led him straight to an open area, complete with an immaculate, tiled floor and a stairway leading upwards to the first floor. He recognised this spot as the foyer, as shown in the brochure he had received a few months previously. But what he _didn’t_ recognise was the hulking, steel door that had once been the entrance to the school. He’d come in that way, hadn’t he? When had they replaced the simple glass door with something that looked like it could hold a nuclear warhead?

And there were people here, too. He counted over a dozen heads, all chatting amongst themselves, and every one of them wearing identical expressions of confusion, with a hint of fear. The atmosphere in the foyer was tense. None of them had noticed he had entered.

He called out to them. “Sorry, but what the bloody hell is going on here?”

They all turned to face him, some gasping aloud, others sighing with relief.

“Thank God,” one of them muttered.

“You must be the sixteenth student,” another said, forcing a smile.

“Where are we?” Eric demanded, looking from one face to another in search of an answer. “What are we doing here?”

A boy with messy blond hair, complete with a knit hat, stepped forward. His blue eyes peered out from behind his fringe, and he offered a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry, but we’re just as much in the dark as you are,” he said. “We woke up in some classrooms nearby.”

Eric nodded. “Same here. But…who are you people, anyway?”

A girl raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re supposed to be your classmates.”

“So…this _is_ Pandora?”

“Either that, or a twisted replica,” a different girl muttered. “So, anyway, what’s your name?”

“What’s _yours_?” Eric shot back.

“I asked first,” she pointed out.

“Come, now!” a boy declared. He was dressed in a fancy suit, complete with a dickey-bow and a top hat. Eric half-expected him to pull out a monocle and a cup of Earl Grey.

He continued on in his refined accent. “If one is making introductions, one must introduce _themselves_ first.” He sniffed. “It’s only what proper etiquette dictates.”

“If we’re going to do that,” a girl with glasses said, “then we should all introduce ourselves to the new boy.”

The boy with the knit hat nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

The girl who had asked Eric his name shrugged and said, “Fine. In that case, I’m Andrea Thomas, the Ultimate BASE Jumper.”

There were nods of recognition from various people in the group. Only Eric looked puzzled.

“Never heard of you,” he muttered.

She frowned. “Don’t tell me you never even bothered to background-check your classmates online? I thought _everyone_ did that.”

Eric blinked. “Oh…? Oh! Yeah, I…I did that, too.” He scoffed. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s just, well…I forgot.”

Andrea folded her arms and gave him a sceptical look. “Really?”

“R-really.”

The BASE jumper grumbled, and the boy with the knit hat quickly stepped in, with an apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry!” he said. “I’ll fill him in.”

The boy turned to Eric, offering a hand. “I’m Quentin. Quentin Ackermann. They call me the Ultimate Sketch Artist.” His mouth twitched in an embarrassed smile. “Like _that’s_ something to be proud of! You?”

Eric took the blond boy’s hand and gave a few firm shakes. “Eric Felikson, the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

“Wow!” Quentin gushed, his eyes widening with awe. “Now _there’s_ an interesting talent! You really must be lucky to have gotten into a place like Pandora through a lottery.”

Eric shrugged, acting as though being one of the world’s luckiest people was no big deal. “Maybe so. I try not to let it go to my head.”

The sketch artist beamed. “Myself, well…I just draw a few things. Doodles, mostly. I honestly don’t see what all the fuss is about. What’s the Ultimate Sketch Artist compared to a brilliant mind like the Ultimate Human Calculator, or a fantastic athlete like the Ultimate BASE Jumper?” His smile faded, and he turned to face the impatient girl he had kept waiting. “Speaking of which – sorry, Andrea. I interrupted your big introduction.”

She waved a disinterested hand. “It’s fine. I don’t particularly care for pointless conversation, anyway.”

Quentin explained, “Andrea’s from Cornwall, although she was born in Spain. She’s one of the most famous BASE jumpers in Europe, and she’s brought a lot of notoriety to what was once an obscure sport.”

While the sketch artist spoke, Eric took the time to examine the girl facing him. Her face, although fixed with a bored expression, was quite beautiful.  Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her skin had a healthy tan.

“What _is_ BASE jumping, anyway?” Eric asked her.

“Building, Antenna, Span, Earth,” she said, ticking the words off on her fingers. “It basically means jumping off of a fixed structure or a cliff. With a parachute, obviously.”

“Kind of like skydiving, then?”

“I suppose.”

Eric’s eyes trailed down to the girl’s outfit: a black, form-fitting jumpsuit that left surprisingly little to the imagination. She didn’t have a half-bad body, although he would have expected as much from an athlete.

“Are you finished?”

Eric was snapped out of his thoughts by Andrea’s accusation. “I’m sorry?”

“Or do you want to eye me up a bit more?” Her expression had frozen in a frosty glare.

While Eric struggled for an excuse, she rolled her eyes and said, “Unbelievable. It was nice talking to you, whatever your name is.”

“It’s Eric.”

“I really don’t care.”

Quentin hurriedly guided Eric along to the next student. “Let’s move on.”

Before the two boys now was the young man in the tweed suit and top hat who had spoken earlier. He smiled primly at them both.

“How do you do, sirs?” He gave them a polite bow, sweeping his hat from his head full of dark hair. “My name is Samuel Worthington. An ever-so _worthy_ name, if I may say so.” He tittered quietly at his own little joke, while Eric stared on in bewilderment.

“I’m sorry?”

Quentin intervened. “Samuel is the Ultimate Gentleman. ‘A paragon of British integrity, chivalry and etiquette’, or so he claims.”

“Indeed,” the gentleman said. “Such a title brings honour both to me and my ancient, respectable house. May I inquire as to your name, good sir?”

“Eric. Eric Felikson. I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

“Ah, indeed! I have heard a great deal about you, Master Felikson, and your unique method of entry into this fine establishment. If you are ever in need of my services, I shall always be ready with a stiff upper-lip and a calming cup of tea.”

Moving along, the two boys came across a girl with platinum-blonde hair that fell in perfect ringlets around her face. She was wearing a respectable blouse and skirt. She fixed them both with a dazzling smile that seemed to reveal every one of her perfectly-white teeth.

“Hello, there,” she crooned. “My name is Michelle Andrews, the Ultimate Flight Attendant. You may remember me from my appearance last month on the successful television programme, _Girl Talk_.”

“I’m Eric. The Ultimate Lucky Student.  I think my mum likes that programme, actually. Never really got into it, myself.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different. After all, that programme caters towards the, shall we say, _civilised_ minds of modern Britain.” She smiled so sweetly that Eric completely missed the insult.

“Yeah, okay.”

Quentin tugged slightly on Eric’s sleeve. “Come on, Eric,” he whispered, to no avail.

“So, you’re just a flight attendant?” the Ultimate Lucky Student went on. “You’ve never actually flown a plane yourself before?”

Michelle shook her head, sending ringlets dancing across her face and back again. “No, no. Although my training has been thorough, and my talents vast and impressive, I don’t have the experience or the knowledge to pilot a plane myself.” She paused. “Now, there is one thing you should know about me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” She leaned in closely, as though to whisper. Eric instinctively mimicked her action, and so was thoroughly surprised when her hand lashed out and gripped his jaw, squeezing his mouth in a vice-like grip.

“If you _ever_ get in the way of me and my story,” she hissed in a voice filled with venom, “I will personally cut off your genitals and shove them down your throat. Do I make myself clear?”

Eric nodded, unable to speak, until she released him from her clutches.

“Very good,” she said, her usual smile now back in full force. “Run along, now, boys. I’ll be keeping an eye on you!” she chirped.

“Y-yeah, great!” Eric squeaked, Quentin all but dragging him away from the Ultimate Flight Attendant. “What the hell just happened?” he whimpered, as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I tried to warn you,” Quentin said, his lip trembling. “She’s insane. Just stay away from her at any cost, and you should be fine.”

Eric could feel the flight attendant’s eyes burning holes through the back of his head. “Easier said than done,” he muttered.

So disturbed was he by the close encounter with Michelle that Eric didn’t even notice the next student until he had walked straight into him. His head collided with the boy’s chest, and he staggered backwards, spouting apologies.

“Sorry, mate, I didn’t see you…”

Eric’s head tilted back, until the tall boy’s face came into view. He didn’t look happy. His mouth was curled into something like an upside-down “U”-shape, and his beady eyes were glaring straight into Eric’s. The Ultimate Lucky Student opened and closed his mouth wordlessly.

“…You should watch where you’re going,” the boy rumbled. “You might hurt yourself.”

Eric nodded hurriedly. “I…I will! Definitely!”

Another few seconds of heavy silence followed, the boy never breaking eye contact. Eventually, he withdrew a paper bag, reached inside and fumbled around.

Eric took a nervous step back. “Listen, mate, I don’t want any trouble…”

The boy slowly pulled out a small brown object from the bag, and held it out to Eric.

“Would you like an éclair?” he asked.

Eric blinked in surprise. “Er…yeah, sure.” He took the object, which was soft and spongy to the touch, from the strange boy’s hand. It certainly _looked_ like an éclair. It even felt slightly sticky between his fingers.

The mysterious boy was glaring expectantly at Eric, who took that as his cue to stuff the éclair into his mouth. His eyes widened as he took a bite into the crisp, chocolaty sweet.

“This…is really _good_!” he enthused, around a mouthful of crumbs.

The boy nodded slowly in thanks, but said nothing more.

Quentin reappeared at Eric’s shoulder. “I see you’ve met Mark Hopkins: the Ultimate Pastry Chef. He’s skilled at making every kind of pastry you can imagine; pies, éclairs, pretzels…”

“Croissants,” Mark supplied, in his deep voice.

“S-sounds delicious!” Eric said, trying not to squirm under the chef’s gaze. “Well, we’d best be off! Got, er, more people to see, you know?”

Mark gave another ponderous nod. “Yes.”

Eric and Quentin backed away from the hulking boy in unison.

“I wouldn’t want to run into _him_ in a dark alleyway,” Eric muttered so that only Quentin could hear.

“I’m sure he’s not a bad person. Or, at least, he doesn’t _try_ to be one.”

The two boys found their way blocked by another boy, this one with blond hair, who was much shorter than Mark. Nonetheless, he stood imperiously before them both, glaring at them with blue eyes filled with nothing short of contempt.

“Hold, foul miscreants!” he howled. “You stand before none other than Liam Cleese, the most powerful individual you will ever have the misfortune to encounter! Now draw thy weapon and prepare to face thy doom!”

Eric looked the strange boy from head to toe, taking in his bizarre, all-white costume, and said the only he could think of in this situation.

“You what?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed distastefully. “You dare speak to me so impudently? Don’t you know who challenges you thusly?”

Eric shook his head, taking a hesitant step backwards. “Mate, I haven’t a clue what you’re on about.”

Once again, it fell to Quentin to explain. “Liam here is the Ultimate Fencer.”

“That explains the costume,” Eric muttered, eyeing Liam’s outfit once again. “But why’s he talking like he’s pals with Shakespeare?”

“Does it not fall to me, the Ultimate Fencer, to live up to my reputation as a sabreuer?! Thus, each and every facet of my role must be treated with the utmost importance! Hence, my sesquipedalian utterations!”

Eric turned to Quentin for help, but the Ultimate Sketch Artist offered only a bemused shrug in response.

“Well, anyway,” Eric went on, “I’m Eric. The Ultimate Lucky Student.”

The fencer surveyed his foe. “I see. Such a pathetic title suits one such as thee.” He smirked.

Now it was Eric’s turn to be offended. “’Scuse me? There’s nothing ‘pathetic’ about me!”

Quentin intervened before violence could break out. “It’s alright, just stay calm. We need to move on, Eric.”

Still glaring daggers at the Ultimate Fencer, Eric allowed himself to be pulled away.

The next person Eric approached was a small, nervous-looking girl with long brown hair that seemed to hide much of her face. She glanced up at them as they drew near, before hurriedly looking away.

Quentin gestured towards the girl. “This is Paige Martin, the Ultimate Cellist. She’s one of the youngest and most talented musicans of our era, and she even-”

Eric held a hand up for silence. “Let her speak for herself.” He gave the girl his most charming smile. “Hi, I’m Eric. I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student. How’s it going? There’s no need to be shy, you know. I don’t bite.” He knew how to handle quiet girls; they just needed to be brought out of their shell a little bit.

But Paige only shook her head, causing Quentin to wince.

“What’s wrong?” Eric asked her. “Are you feeling alright?”

The cellist brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, before performing a brief, but complex, series of hand signals.

Eric blinked, before realisation – and embarrassment – sank in.

“I’m afraid Paige is mute,” Quentin mumbled. “Apparently, she was born that way. She expresses herself through music instead of words.”

“You could’ve told me that before I started chatting to her,” Eric said, out of the corner of his mouth.

“I tried,” Quentin replied, with a grimace.

Paige signed again.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t understand.”

Suddenly, another girl, who was wearing respectable-looking glasses and a conservative skirt and blouse, swept in and joined the three of them.

“Oh, I’m _ever_ so sorry!” she cried, pushing up the bridge of her glasses. “I should have provided my assistance the moment I noticed you talking to Paige. You’ll have to forgive my negligence.”

In total contrast to the cellist, this new girl was positively brimming with energy. Her loud voice, coupled with her well-to-do accent and demeanour, practically commanded attention.

She went on, beaming what Eric felt safe was a genuine smile. “I suppose I had better introduce myself, first. I’m Joan. Joan Rösler-Tate, the Ultimate Linguist. I’m proficient in almost any language you could care to name, although I’m still far from fluent in many of them,” she added, with a wink.

“I’m Eric Felikson. The Ultimate Lucky Student.” He shook her hand.

“A pleasure, Mr. Felikson,” she enthused, pushing up her glasses once more. “Now, would you have me interpret for you?”

“That’d be fantastic, Joan,” Quentin said.

“Very well.” Joan smiled at Paige, before signing a short phrase.

With a brief glance at the two boys, Paige signed something back.

“Paige says that she’s confused. She doesn’t understand what’s going on here.”

“I think we’re all in the same boat,” Eric said, with a shrug.

A moment’s pause in the conversation as Paige signed, and Eric saw Joan’s smile dim slightly.”

“Oh, I see.” The linguist turned to the boys once more. “Paige says that she’d rather be left alone for now. She seems to be a bit nervous in such a big crowd.”

Eric nodded. “Yeah, alright. Thanks, Joan.”

Joan waved a hand, giggling. “No trouble at all.”

The next person they spoke to was a good-looking boy with blonde hair and big, round, brown eyes. He was dressed in a frilly shirt, complete with a rose pinned to the lapel, and tight-fitting jeans. He gave them a half smile as they approached.

“ _Ah, salut, Quentin. Quel est le nom de ton ami?”_

Eric blinked, before smiling and saying, “ _Je m’appele Eric. Je suis le…”_ He paused as he tried to recall the correct term. _“…L’Ultime Étudiant Chanceux. Et toi?”_

_“Moi, je suis Luc Cloutier – l’Ultime Styliste.”_ He cocked his head to the side. _“Tu parles bien le français.”_

_“Merci.”_

For once, it was Quentin who was lost.

_“Parles-tu anglais, Luc?”_ Eric asked.

_“Non, désolé.”_

_“Quel dommage. Mon français, c’est…ah, limité.”_

_“Ah, je comprends. Salut, Eric.”_

_“Salut.”_

Quentin was impressed. “I was afraid that we’d need Joan to translate again. But you speak good French.”

Eric shrugged off the compliment. “It’s one of my better subjects. Plus, the birds _love_ it like you wouldn’t believe.”

Quentin chuckled. “So you had an ulterior motive in learning it.”

“Of course. But Luc seems like a decent bloke, anyway.”

The next person to be introduced was a girl with fair hair, dressed in a flowery, tie-dyed shirt and faded jeans. A black beret was perched upon her head, and a daisy chain hung around her slender neck. She had a completely unfazed smile fixed on her face, and she waved hello to the two boys when she saw them.

“Hi there,” she said, in a dreamy tone. “I’m Julia Maeve Zelda Cleopatra Francesca Prudence Croft. What are your names?”

“Not quite as long as yours,” Eric quipped. “I’m Eric Felikson. I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

“That sounds nice,” Julia murmured in her sweet voice, before turning to address Quentin. “And you are?”

“Erm, we’ve actually met before. Just a little while ago, in fact. Quentin Ackermann, remember? The Ultimate Sketch Artist.”

She blinked. “Oh. I’m afraid I don’t remember. I must have been thinking about clouds.”

“…Ah. Right.”

The two boys shared a glance.

“Julia,” Quentin said, after an uncomfortable silence, “is the Ultimate Hippie. Her grandparents were at the epicentre of the whole Flower Power thing during their teens. Julia’s been trying to follow in their footsteps as best she can.”

“Good on you,” Eric said, giving her a weak smile. “What’s it like, exactly, being the Ultimate Hippie?”

“…It’s quite unique,” she said. “It’s like that feeling you get – you know, when you’ve just been jumping on a trampoline for a little while? And then you get off the trampoline, and start jumping on the solid ground? _That’s_ how it feels.” She smiled serenely, as though her explanation had been entirely satisfactory.

“…Yeah, okay.” Eric gave her a nervous thumbs-up, before slowly backing away.

“I want whatever it is that girl’s smoking,” he whispered to Quentin.

“She does seem a bit…out-of-it,” the sketch artist admitted.

“I’m starting to get the feeling you and me are the only people here who aren’t completely off their-”

Not for the first time that morning, Eric found himself walking straight into a fellow student. And again, not for the first time, he found himself stunned speechless by what he saw, once he had taken in that student’s appearance.

He had collided with a tall, blonde bombshell of a woman, who stood almost as tall as Mark. She wore a pair of shorts, along with a loose, sleeveless top that exposed both her navel and neckline. Eric found himself at head height with the girl’s cleavage. She smiled obliviously down at Eric, who was currently doing his best impression of a surprised fish.

“Hello,” she said, in an accented voice. “How are you today?”

Eric made a sound that could only be described as “Buh?”

A delicate frown creased the beautiful girl’s forehead. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid my English is very poor. Sometimes I am making myself hard to understand. Am much more familiar with Russian, you see.”

“You can talk Russian to me all you want, love,” Eric mumbled.

Quentin grabbed hold of Eric’s jacket, and hoisted him away from the girl’s ample bust.

“This is Nina Markovic,” he explained. “She’s the Ultimate Volleyball Champion – a five-time European gold medallist, in fact.”

“Volleyball, eh?” Eric muttered. “I would’ve thought you were the Ultimate Supermodel.”

She giggled, a sound that made Eric’s heart flutter.

“Can I be asking _your_ name?”

“It’s Eric,” he said, giving her his most charming smile. “Eric Felikson. I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

“How lovely,” she said, smiling back at him. “Everyone here has been…how do you say it? Treating me very nicely, I think.”

_I can’t imagine why,_ Eric thought, but aloud, he said, “Then maybe you should get to know them all a bit better. Hey, if you’d like, you could start with me?”

“Okay,” Quentin interjected, pulling the Ultimate Lucky Student away again, “maybe later.”

“Come on, mate!” Eric complained. “I was in there, and you know it!”

“We still haven’t finished introductions,” the sketch artist pointed out. “There’ll be plenty of time for flirting later on.”

And so, Eric was dragged along to a short-statured boy with dark hair, who was wearing tight shorts and a vest that showed off his wiry arms. He was tapping his foot restlessly, as though anxious to get up and run around for a bit.

“Alright?” Eric gave the boy a nod, and received a nod in return. “I’m Eric. And I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student.” At this point, he was a bit fed-up of having to repeat those words over and over again.

“Shane Collyer,” the other boy said, offering his hand. Eric shook it, and saw the muscles in Shane’s arm working as he did. It was…strangely hypnotic.

“I’m the Ultimate Squash Player,” Shane said, snapping Eric out of his daze. “You got into Pandora by lottery, didn’t you?” He had a strong accent, which made his words somewhat difficult for Eric to understand.

“Er, yeah, that’s right.”

“That’s fairly cool. I was supposed to be goin’ to St. Elpis’. You know, the school in Ireland? But it turned out that they already had too many students to accommodate me. So they just told Pandora to take me instead, like.” He gave Eric a bemused smile. “Can you believe that?”

“Would you rather be going to school there?”

Shane shrugged. “It’s probably not that big of a deal. God knows there’re people who’d kill to be goin’ to either one of these schools. I’d say we’re _both_ pretty lucky.”

Eric chuckled. “Maybe you’re right, mate.”

Not wanting to let the conversation drag, Quentin and Eric left Shane soon after. The next student they came across was a small girl with ginger hair. She was dressed in plain clothes and a dull, brown skirt. Her thick-lensed glasses made her eyes appear larger, and her wide, unblinking stare reminded Eric oddly of an owl.

“…” She said nothing as she analysed him.

“…My, er, my name’s Eric.” He decided that he’d better open the conversation, rather than half to endure further uncomfortable silence. “Eric Felikson. I’m the-”

“The Ultimate Lucky Student,” she said, cutting him off.

“Y-yeah. How’d you know that?”

“Simple,” she muttered. “Have been introduced to fifteen students, none of which held the title of Ultimate Lucky Student. Given that Pandora Institute only inducts sixteen students each year, and that one of those people is selected by lottery as the Ultimate Lucky Student, it would follow that the only student yet to be introduced was that person – you.”

Eric blinked. She’d said all that in a single breath, with hardly a pause between her words. It was like she was trying to transmit as much information as she possibly could in a short space of time.

“So…can I ask your name?”

The girl adjusted her glasses slightly. “Kelly Davidson. Ultimate Human Calculator.”

_That might explain her weird way of talking,_ Eric thought.

“Kelly’s one of the nation’s most renowned mathematical minds, even at her young age,” Quentin explained. “She can do the work of most calculators mentally, in less than half the time taken by most adult mathematicians. She’s what they call a ‘prodigy’, I suppose.”

“An apt title,” Kelly said. “Mathematical capabilities far beyond peers.”

_Obviously all that genius doesn’t leave much room for modesty,_ Eric grumbled internally.

“Who’s left, then?” he asked Quentin. “We’ve met about ten people, right?”

“There’re only two people left to go,” the sketch artist said, directing Eric’s attention to the next student: another tall boy. This one, however, would stand out in almost any crowd.

The boy had slicked-back white hair that shined like chrome. His skin was very pale, with a sick, grey tinge. His eyes were hidden from view, behind a steel visor with a single, glowing, red light stretching horizontally across the front. He was wearing a thin t-shirt, through which Eric could see metal plates protruding. The boy’s jeans mostly succeeded in covering-up what looked to Eric like prosthetic legs. The whole thing put the Ultimate Lucky Student in mind of something out of one of those old, 80’s sci-fi films: _Robo-Policeman_ , or _The Annihilator_.

The robot-student surveyed him silently. Eric felt uncomfortable under the boy’s gaze, and he decided to crack a quick joke to break the ice.

“So, er…are you the droid I’m looking for?”

The comment earned him a sharp look from Quentin, but the robot-boy tilted his head to the side, and opened his mouth to speak.

“My-name-is-Frank-Nathanial-Steiner. I-am-the-Ultimate-Robotic-Technician. What-is-your-name?”

Even the bloke’s _voice_ was robotic. He sounded like a text-to-speech program from the turn of the millennium.

“I-it’s Eric. Felikson. I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

“It-is-good-to-meet-you, Eric.”

“Yeah, same here.”

Quentin jumped in with his usual explanation. “Frank here has been tinkering with robotics since he was small. Unfortunately for him, there was an accident several years ago that caused an explosion in his laboratory.”

Frank nodded jerkily. “I-lost-both-legs, my-right-hand, damaged-my-corneas-and-my-ribcage-and-also-lost-the-use-of-my-larynx. Hence-the-voice-you-are-hearing-now.”

Eric gaped. “Jesus. You poor bloke.”

Quentin continued. “Luckily, Frank was able to be…er, _reassembled_ with the help of some of his own projects. It was called a miracle of modern science. Some people have taken to calling him the ‘Ultimate Cyborg’, instead of his official title.”

“It-has-a-nice-ring-to-it,” Frank admitted.

“Right, well…” Eric was at a loss on how to follow up on Frank’s story. “We should go.”

“It-was-nice-talking-to-you, Eric.”

“Yeah, cheers.”

Once they had left Frank behind them, Quentin said, “Alright, that just leaves one more…oh.”

Eric frowned at him. “‘Oh’, what?”

“The last student,” the sketch artist muttered, “she’s a bit…well, you’ll see for yourself.”

Eric chuckled quietly. “After cyborgs and psychotic air hostesses, how bad could she possibly be?”

It wasn’t until Eric was standing before the final student that he realised that he shouldn’t have pushed his luck. The girl was regarding him coldly through yellow, hateful eyes. Her dark, stringy hair fell about her face, but didn’t succeed in hiding her terrifying expression. Her white robes looked about five sizes too big for her, giving her the appearance of a child dressed up as a ghost.

“So…are you supposed to be the Ultimate Halloween Costume?” Eric asked the girl, causing her lip to curl in fury.

“Fool!” she snarled. “I am Lady Darkessia, the Fell Queen of the Night, Bane of Those Who Dwell in the Light, the One Who is Both Terrible and Cruel!”

“You _do_ look pretty terrible,” Eric muttered.

“Darkessia,” Quentin said, with a weary voice, “is the Ultimate Priestess. She’s a member of the inner circle of a cult known as ‘The Children of Badb’. She’s devoted her life to worshipping a god that’s supposedly predestined to bring about the end of the world.”

“There’s no ‘supposedly’ about it, infidel!” she hissed, prompting Quentin to take a nervous step back. “The Day of Wrath draws ever closer. Soon, all will know the indignation of His Most Horribleness, Ba’alphegorius – the God of Many Wicked Names and Faces, the Reveller of Sin, the Father of Pain and Misery, and Lord of the Void.”

Eric raised an eyebrow at the girl’s pontificating. “And what do your parents have to say about this…‘Most Horribleness’ bloke?”

Darkessia sniffed. “Like all Children, I was born of the Unholy Matrimony between Ba’alphegorius – the Lord of the Void, Badb – the Dark Lady of the Nether, and Dahgron – the Scion of the Eternal Abyss. _They_ are my true parents.”

“If you say so.”

“Lovely talking to you again, Darkessia,” Quentin said in a placating manner, as he withdrew alongside Eric.

“That’s _Lady_ Darkessia, wretch!” she shrieked, prompting the two boys to turn tail and flee.

They rejoined the group in the centre of the hall, coming across an annoyed-looking Andrea.

“Are you two finished making introductions, yet?” she asked.

“Yeah, we’re done,” Eric replied.

“Brilliant,” she muttered.

“So, er…” Eric felt uncomfortable in the silence that had suddenly fallen in the hall. “What now? Does anybody have any idea why we’re here?”

Julia sighed wistfully. “I _always_ wonder why we’re here. Such a totally _deep_ question, man.”

Eric shook his head hurriedly. “No, no, I didn’t mean in a philosophical sense. I meant why are we _here_ , in this weird place?”

Samuel was regarding the hall they were standing in with an expression of familiarity. “As we have surmised previously, this is the very interior of the Pandora Institute for Talented Youth. Such hallowed halls hold a profound distinction, you see. I would recognise them anywhere, being a true gentleman.”

“Approximations confirm Samuel’s assertion,” Kelly said. “Probability of construction being Pandora Institute is ninety-seven-point-eight-nine-eight percent.”

“But since when did Pandora have a front door the size of my house?” Shane asked.

They all turned to face the massive steel door that was bolted into the wall of the foyer.

“Hold on a minute,” Eric said, holding a hand up for attention. “I remember walking into the school this morning. That door _definitely_ wasn’t there.”

Quentin nodded. “I remember that, too. What happened? Did the staff trap us in here?”

“Why-would-they-do-such-a-thing?”

“I dunno, Frank,” Eric muttered. “But something is _definitely_ not right. If this is Pandora, and it certainly seems that way, then where _is_ everyone?  I haven’t seen any teachers or students, apart from us.”

“Me, neither,” Andrea admitted. “D’you think this is some kind of test for us? An initiation, maybe?”

“That may explain those security cameras I’ve been spotting around the place,” Joan said, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “Paige has seen them, too. She says they frighten her.”

Julia nodded, her eyes wide. “Yeah, they’re, like, totally creepy.”

“Too right,” Eric agreed. “So, what do we do? Are we just going to wait here for some sign from the staff?”

At that moment, there was a _click_ from around the halls as every loudspeaker in the building turned on. A loud, high-pitched voice came screeching out of each and every one.

_“Ahem-hem! Attention, all students! That’s_ you _guys, by the way. I would like for you all to come immediately to the auditorium down the hall. Come along, now! Don’t be shy!”_

And with another click, the loudspeakers were turned off.


	3. Prologue: Beginning/End - Part 3

The students were left in silence as they tried to process what they had just heard. Had that really even happened? What sort of bizarre mess had they gotten themselves into?

Eric supposed there was no harm asking. “I wasn’t the only one who heard that, right?”

There were confused nods from around the room.

“…Then what the hell’s going on?” he breathed.

“We should probably do as they said,” Shane muttered. “Whoever they were.”

Andrea blew air out from between her lips. “I suppose it’s better than just hanging around here all day.”

“According-to-the-sign, the-auditorium-is-located-at-the-end-of-this-corridor.” Frank pointed off down a wide hallway that branched out of the foyer.

“Then let’s go find out who trapped us here,” Eric declared.

Eric set off down the corridor Frank had indicated, the others following in his wake. Soon enough, they reached a set of large double doors. Without hesitating, Eric pushed the doors open and marched into a wide room with high walls. Seats were arranged in rows, spanning the width of the hall. An aisle led the group straight down to a stage, upon which a podium was perched in the exact centre. Aside from the sixteen students, the auditorium was completely devoid of people.

“I don’t see anyone else here,” Quentin muttered. “Are we sure this is the right place?”

“It _looks_ like an auditorium,” Andrea said.

“I like it.” Darkessia was eyeing the walls with a hungry look in her eye. “It’s dark, and deathly silent. I should acquire it for my rituals.”

Before Eric could address that profoundly creepy statement, a voice cried out from the stage.

“Well, then! If everybody’s here, then let’s start the show!”

The students spun in unison towards the podium onstage, all recognising the voice from the announcement. And so, they all witnessed the creature that appeared out of thin air and leaped onto the podium.

It looked like a teddy bear, albeit one that had been designed by a madman. One side of its body was pure white and friendly-looking, while the other side was black and sinister. The white side of the bear’s mouth was a small and cutesy snout, but on the other side of the bear’s face was a maw filled with dangerous-looking teeth. One eye was small and beady, the other red and narrowed. The red eye glowed maliciously as the bear opened its mouth, and the same voice from before issued out.

“Allow me to introduce myself: I am Monobear, your new headmaster!”

Eric summed up the confusion felt by him and his classmates in just three words.

“What the fuck?!”

“That thing’s…alive!” Michelle cried, fear making her voice shrill.

“I can’t believe it,” Darkessia whispered, her tone filled with awe. “A real, live demon! I never thought I’d witness one with my own, meagre eyes!”

The bear blinked. “Huh? You mean me? I’m not a demon. I’m just Monobear, like I said.”

“How-curious.” Frank was slowly stomping towards the stage, unable to take his visored gaze off of the strange bear. “You-are-unlike-any-robot-I-have-ever-seen.”

Monobear raised a paw to its cheek. Was it…blushing?

“Aw, shucks! You really know how to push my buttons,” he squeaked.

“I-would-very-much-like-to-disassemble-you,” Frank continued. “Would-you-be-so-kind?”

The bear quickly assumed a martial arts pose, holding its arms defensively out in front of its body.

“Hey, hey!” he warned. “Don’t you get any funny ideas! I’ve got tech in here that’d make NASA positively green with envy! Ain’t nobody getting their hands on _that_!”

“I-am-capable-of-using-force, if-necessary.” Frank’s voice was that same monotone, but it now seemed to have a dangerous edge to it. Eric nervously backed away from the cyborg. He wasn’t the only one.

“Hey, now! At least wait until I’ve explained why I brought you all here.” He cleared his throat – of what, Eric didn’t know – and raised his voice to address the gathered students.

“You’re all going to be living here from now on!”

Nina smiled and nodded, as though everything suddenly made sense to her. “Ah, yes, I see. We are attending school here, yes? We are students of Pandora Institute.”

“Oh, no, no, no! You dumbasses have the wrong idea!” Monobear stuck his paws on his hips and tutted. “Let me elaborate: you’re all going to be living here… _permanently_!”

Eric gave a loud and panicked laugh. “Yeah, right, mate. And who’s keeping us here, _you_?”

“You betcha!” Monobear enthused. “I’m the headmaster, after all. That means, for the rest of your meaningless lives, you losers are officially my _bitches_!”

Monobear’s cheery, and yet menacing, words caused a stir of panic among the students.

“He can’t be serious!”

“What the hell’s going on?!”

“S-such impudence!”

Monobear carried on, in what he probably thought was a gentler voice. “Hey, it’s alright. There’s no need to fret! Everything you could possibly require in order to live comfortably is already here. You’ll never go hungry, or thirsty, either! This _is_ one of the finest institutions in Europe, after all!” The bear’s twisted mouth widened in a bloodthirsty grin. “So, play nice, everybody! Because you’ll need to be getting along with each other for a very, _very_ long time!”

And with that, Monobear began to giggle. It was a sound unlike any Eric had heard before. Just the noise itself sent shivers running down his spine.

“Upupupupu…upupu!”

And then, he erupted into laughter.

“Aaaaaaa-hahahahaha!”

“Let me out!” someone howled.

“You can’t keep someone like _me_ locked in here!” Michelle exclaimed. “I’ll have you know that I am a high-achieving professional!”

“You bastard!” Samuel snarled, his well-to-do accent forgotten about. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you, blud! Swear on me mum, I do!”

The so-called gentlemen noticed the stares his outburst had drawn, and he made an attempt to compose himself.

“I mean…surely we can come to some sort of arrangement?” He simpered at the ‘headmaster’. “After all, we _are_ civilised gentlemen…or should I say, ‘gentle- _bear_ ’?”

“Nothing civilised about what _I_ just heard,” Eric muttered, staring at Samuel in bewilderment.

Monobear held his paws up for appeasement. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I understand how you idiots feel. So, I’m going to let you all know about one of our new school rules. It’s called the ‘Graduation Rule’.

“It’s simple really, _anyone_ can do it. If a student living within these walls so wishes, they can leave the school at any time. How’s that, huh?”

Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”

“Oh, it’s nothing major!” Monobear chuckled. “In order to graduate, all you have to do…” He leaned in and whispered, although the students could still hear every word. “…Is kill your classmates!”

There were gasps and cries of horror from around the room, but Eric couldn’t make a sound. How could this even be _happening_? To _him_ , of all people! Wasn’t he supposed to be the Ultimate Lucky Student?

“Upupupu! Let me explain further. The person who murders their fellow student will be allowed to graduate the school. But if – and _only_ if – they can get away with the murder! And that’s just one of the many rules we have here in your new school life of mutual killing! It’s like a fun little game we can all play!”

“A game?!” Andrea was staring at the bear with a look of sheer disgust. “You think toying with people’s lives is just a _game_?!”

Monobear tilted his head in puzzlement. “Huh? Of course I do! What else would it be? I swear, you guys are no fun!”

“But, like…we don’t even _know_ each other!” Julia protested. “I can’t take the life of an innocent stranger! Or anyone else, Mr. Bear-man!”

“‘Stranger’, you say?” Monobear giggled again. “Upupu…what if I told you that you all know each other really well? You just don’t remember it!”

“What nonsense is this?” Liam scoffed. “The bear is quite clearly delusional!”

“It’s no delusion!” Monobear huffed. “You guys all knew each other, because you went to school together – here, in Pandora!”

Eric shook his head. “What are you on about? We _just_ got here. Today!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Eric! Take a look-see at _this_!”

Monobear swiped something like a piece of card off of the top of the podium and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it spinning through the air. It fell to the floor beneath the stage. Slowly, Eric stepped forward and picked it up.

It was a photograph. Judging by the uniforms worn by the teenagers in the picture, it was a class photograph. Looking hard at the photo, Eric saw some faces he recognised. Wasn’t that Andrea smiling warmly from the front row? And it would be hard to miss someone like Frank, who stood in the centre of the back row, towering over all except for Mark, who was standing right beside him. Eric spotted Quentin, too, still wearing his favourite hat. But the face that truly shocked him was his own, smack dab in the middle of the picture. He was grinning the same way he always did, unconcerned by anything life might throw at him.

Try as he might, Eric couldn’t remember anything about this photograph being taken. It wasn’t until his eyes fell upon an object in the background of the picture that he realised that Monobear had told them the truth.

Right there, flying above the student’s heads, was a banner that proudly proclaimed “Pandora Institute – Second Year Class of 2011-2012”.

He froze to the spot. How could that even be possible? Today was supposed to be the first of September, 2010, wasn’t it? That was the day his life in Pandora was due to begin. And yet, this photo seemed to be telling him that that part of his life was already mostly over. And worse still – he didn’t remember any of it.

A voice at his shoulder mumbled, _“Qu’est-ce que c’est?”_

Wordlessly, Eric handed the photo over to Luc, who scanned it rapidly, his eyes whizzing from side to side, growing wider and wider by the second.

_“Non…c’est impossible…”_

Eric pointed at the banner in the picture. _“Regarde cette.”_

Luc gasped. “What the hell?!”

Eric’s eye’s narrowed as Luc realised his mistake.

“Er, _je me trompe! Je ne parle…_ oh, what’s the point?” Luc sighed.

“You _do_ speak English!” Eric glared. “And here I was, trying to be all clever!”

“I’m sorry!” Luc was shame-faced. “I am…not very good with strangers, you see. I find that fewer people try to speak to me if I pretend that I don’t speak their language.”

“Well…!”

Before Eric could tell Luc off once more, Andrea arrived on the scene.

“What are you two getting into a fuss about?”

Eric decided that the argument with Luc could wait. He showed her the picture. Soon, everyone was gathered around the photograph, taking it in turns to hold for themselves.

“But…but…” For once, Liam seemed at a loss for words.

“I…don’t understand,” Quentin breathed.

Kelly muttered, “Only two conclusions can be drawn; conclusion A – photo is a convincing fake, or conclusion B – memories have been tampered with.”

The auditorium erupted into chaos. No one could believe that two years’ worth of memories could simply be deleted from their minds – nobody _wanted_ to believe it. But it only confirmed Eric’s suspicions; he had felt that something was strange about his body the moment he awoke inside the classroom.

Once again, Monobear’s voice cut above the din. “You guys want proof? Take a look at yourselves…notice anything different? I bet most of you have grown at least a little bit over the last two years. When you woke up earlier, didn’t you all feel it? Didn’t you feel strange in your bigger bodies?”

So _that_ had been it! No wonder Eric had felt weird – he hadn’t been used to walking around in a seventeen year-old body.

“Upupu! How bitter the taste of despair is! I was thinking of waiting to drop this bombshell on you later, but then I figured, what the hell? I’m a sucker for instant gratification!” Monobear resumed his maniacal laughter. “Upupupu! Upupupupupu!”

Frank moved faster than Eric would have believed possible, given his rather large frame. He practically vaulted up onto the stage and charged the podium, grabbing hold of the bear. Monobear didn’t struggle as he was picked up, nor did he protest. When he opened his mouth, the only sound that came out was a high-pitched beeping sound that gradually grew more frequent.

Frank’s cyborg body froze. “What?” he breathed, in an almost-human voice.

Eric realised the danger before anyone else. “Run! It’s going to explode!”

Hearing Eric bellowing over the piercing sound that was emanating from Monobear, Frank tossed the bear over his head and sprinted away. As he jumped off of the stage, the bear exploded with a wave of heat and deafening noise, blasting Frank away. Even the grounded students were sent sprawling by the force of the explosion.

As soon as his head stopped spinning and his ears stopped ringing, Eric scrambled to his feet and surveyed the room. There was an acrid smell in the air, and the ceiling far above was hidden behind a blanket of smoke and dust. All around him, the other students were also getting up from the auditorium floor.

“I-is everyone o-okay?” Eric called out, nearly choking as he accidentally inhaled a cluster of dust particles.

Eric heard Quentin call out weakly, “I’m fine.”

“M-me, too.” That sounded like Julia.

“What happened to Frank?” Joan asked.

There was a creaking of mechanical limbs and a short series of stomps as Frank, who had been lying at the base of the stage, got to his feet.

“Do-not-worry,” the cyborg rumbled. “I-have-not-sustained-serious-physical-damage.”

Eric let out a sigh of relief. It seemed like they had all avoided injury from the explosion. What was more, the freakish bear that had been tormenting had just gone up in smoke. Things were looking up.

“Then, if everyone’s alright, I think we should try to find a way out of here.” Eric’s voice rose in order to address everyone in the auditorium. “It may seem a bit hopeless now, but if we put our heads together, I’m sure we can do it.”

The cry of the other students voicing their agreement was drowned out by a horribly-familiar, high-pitched laugh.

“Upupupu! You didn’t really think it would be _that_ easy, did you?”

They all turned to face the stage, watching in horror as the figure of Monobear once again leaped up onto the podium, beaming triumphantly.

“That’s right! I’m back, and I’m bear-er than ever! Not even death can stop me!”

“But…what?!” Eric cried. “How are you-?!”

“He really _is_ a demon!” Darkessia whispered reverently.

“A-backup-system,” Frank muttered. “How-quaint.”

The Ultimate Sketch Artist appeared at Frank’s side with a warning glance. “Don’t even think about it. We might not be so lucky to survive another explosion.”

“Upu! I’m glad you’ve all learned your lesson!” Monobear’s grin slipped downwards into a dangerous snarl. “I oughta punish you _severely_ for your lack of discipline, Frank! But I think I’ll let you off with a warning just this once. After all, it wouldn’t be very exciting to have one of the students drop out of the running so soon, would it? Upupu!”

“So it’s true, then?” Liam had abandoned his theatrical voice in his fear, letting what sounded like a Yorkshire accent slip through. “You…you’re telling us all to kill each other?”

“You betcha! But not all at once, obviously. Like I said, you can’t let anybody know you were the murderer if you want to graduate. Them’s the rules, folks! And speaking of rules, you can find the whole list on your Electronic Student Handbooks!”

He stamped one foot on the podium, apparently hitting some sort of switch, for a section of the floor in front of the stage split open and up rose a platform in its place. Lying on the platform was a pile of what looked like thick, blue cards, complete with screens.

“There’s one for every member of the audience, and it’s important that you carry your e-handbook around at all times. They’ll allow you access into various parts of the facility, so be sure not to lose yours! You have to turn it on, first, so don’t be shy! Everyone, come and get it!”

Hesitantly, the students stepped forwards and began sifting through the pile of cards. There was a small din of beeping sounds as each student turned the e-handbooks on. Many of the handbooks were swapped and passed around until they found their correct owner. Eric, too, reached down and picked one up at random, pressing the button on its side. The front of the device instantly lit up and displayed a series of words and images. Eric saw a portrait of a familiar blond-haired boy with a hat, along with the words, ‘Quentin Ackermann, Ultimate Sketch Artist’, and some details about the boy, including his height, weight, blood type and the fact that he was apparently ambidextrous.

He passed it to Quentin, who was holding another e-handbook.

“This belongs to you,” Eric told him.

“Oh, that’s a coincidence. I have yours.”

They swapped cards, giving Eric a glance at the screen of the new handbook. Sure enough, his own face was staring out at him from the portrait, his trademark grin absent.

He heard Shane call out from nearby. “I have someone else’s. Some girl named, er, ‘Agnes Smith’?”

Darkessia hissed like a feral cat, before snatching the device from the Ultimate Squash Player’s hands.

“Never speak that name again, little human,” she fumed. “Unless you’d rather your tongue be ripped from your mouth with my bare talons?”

Although Shane was clearly terrified by the Ultimate Priestess’s outburst, Eric noticed several other students giggling.

“Your name is ‘Agnes’?” Liam muttered, a smirk twisting his lips.

“Imbecile!” the priestess howled. “I have no name but the one given to me by my Lord and Master, Ba’alphegorius!”

Shaking his head, Eric returned his attention to the object he held in his hands. He caught sight of an icon on the screen that said ‘School Rules’. He pressed it, and the interface flashed and changed. The portrait and name disappeared and were replaced by a list of numbered headings.

_1\. The students will live a communal lifestyle inside the school walls. Attempting to leave via any of the exits will not be permitted._  
_2\. The time between 22:00 and 07:00 is designated as ‘Night Time’. During Night Time there are certain areas of the school that are forbidden to enter, so please take care._  
_3\. Sleeping is only permitted in the personal rooms prepared for you in the dormitories. Anyone intentionally falling asleep elsewhere during Night Time will be punished._  
_4\. You may investigate the school as you please. There are minimal restrictions on your actions._  
_5\. No violence is permitted against the school’s headmaster, Monobear. Destruction of the security cameras is also forbidden._  
_6\. A ‘culprit’ who kills a fellow student can graduate the school. However, they must not let any other student know that they are the culprit._  
_7\. Additional rules may be added at any time if deemed necessary by the headmaster._

“So, from now on, I don’t want to see anybody breaking the School Rules around here, is that clear?” Monobear’s cheery voice had a dangerous edge to it. “If anybody tries anything fishy like Frank just did, there _will_ be consequences. Hilarious and gory consequences.”

Monobear gave a joyful wave. “Ta-ta for now, losers. If you need me to answer any questions, just give me a shout. I’ll come running…eventually. Upupupu!”

And with that, the bear backflipped off of the podium and disappeared from view.

There was a moment of tense silence after Monobear’s departure, as every student contemplated the mess that they were in. It had only truly just begun to sink in just how utterly screwed-up the situation was. This was to be their life from now on: at the mercy of a lunatic, locked inside the very school they had apparently once attended…

Eric’s eyes fell upon the photograph that Monobear had produced. It had fallen to the floor during the chaos of the explosion. He picked it up once again, examining it intensely, searching for some kind of inspiration.

“Eric?”

The Ultimate Lucky Student’s head snapped up upon hearing Quentin’s voice. The sketch artist, along with most of the other students, was staring at him with a look of concern. The atmosphere was heavy, and Eric could already feel the despair starting to creep in amongst them.

“What are we going to do?” Quentin asked.

Eric looked from person to person, meeting their eyes in turn. Not one of them seemed to want to speak up, to take charge. Even the oh-so macho Liam Cleese had fallen silent. Hell, _Michelle_ , of all people, seemed honestly fearful.

In other words, they were all looking to him for leadership.

“…I meant what I said earlier. We _can_ get out of here if we work together. I know that not all of you like me, although I can’t imagine why. But, if we don’t unite against Monobear, we won’t stand a chance. It may seem hopeless now, true, but the person who’s masterminding this whole affair is only human. They’re not invincible.”

“‘Masterminding’?” Julia echoed. “Deep, man.”

“What makes you think it’s just one person behind this?” Andrea challenged.

Eric shrugged, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. “Honestly, I don’t know. Call it a guess, I suppose. But my guesses usually tend to be lucky.” Eric thumped his chest with a fist. “Count on me, and I’ll lead us all out of here. We’re some of the best and most talented people in the world, after all. Who the hell could stop us?”

Their expressions were brightening now, breaking out into hopeful smiles. Quentin, especially, was beaming. Eric hadn’t counted on becoming a leader, but he could certainly get used to the feeling.

And maybe they _would_ find a way out of this mess. But, deep inside, Eric couldn’t shake the feeling that his unshakable luck might have finally begun to run out.

 

 

** 16 STUDENTS REMAINING: **

Ultimate Sketch Artist – Quentin Ackermann

Ultimate Flight Attendant – Michelle Andrews

Ultimate Fencer – Liam Cleese

Ultimate Stylist – Luc Cloutier

Ultimate Squash Player – Shane Collyer

Ultimate Hippie – Julia Croft

Ultimate Human Calculator – Kelly Davidson

Ultimate Lucky Student – Eric Felikson

Ultimate Pastry Chef – Mark Hopkins

Ultimate Volleyball Champion – Nina Markovic

Ultimate Cellist – Paige Martin

Ultimate Priestess – Agnes “Darkessia” Smith

Ultimate Robotic Technician – Frank Steiner

Ultimate Linguist – Joan Rösler-Tate

Ultimate BASE Jumper – Andrea Thomas

Ultimate Gentleman – Samuel Worthington


	4. Chapter 1: Truth/Lies - Part 1

(Ab)Normal Days

“So…where should we start?”

Still basking in the power he had just been given, Eric was caught by surprise by Joan’s question.

“Er, sorry?”

“Well, I just thought it prudent that we would explore this new place we’ve found ourselves in,” the linguist explained.

“Ah,” Samuel crowed, having resumed his usual level of placidness, “I see. Indeed, what better way to gain a fundamental comprehension of our current location?”

Eric blinked. “Right, well…er…”

Quentin sighed quietly, before muttering to the Ultimate Lucky Student, “They want to have a look around the place so that we have a better idea what it’s like.”

“Oh,” Eric said, “alright. Well…I think we should split up. We can cover more ground if we’re in smaller groups, right? I think we should have four groups of four, so everyone get into a team with three others.”

Slowly, warily, the fifteen other students dispersed, before coming together again in groups of four. Quentin practically latched onto Eric, which didn’t particularly bother him. One group consisted of Liam, Kelly, Shane and Mark, another of Julia, Darkessia, Luc and Michelle. Paige and Joan had stuck together, along with Nina and Samuel. Frank joined Eric’s group, which left only Andrea standing by herself, searching frantically for anyone else to join up with. Her eyes fell upon the group of three, and she rolled her eyes as she walked over to them, furiously trying to ignore Eric’s widening grin.

“Alright, then let’s get to work!” Eric exclaimed.

There were a few enthusiastic cheers, none louder than Julia’s. But some of the students were left looking puzzled.

“So, what do you wish for us to _do_ , exactly?” Liam asked.

Eric waved a hand dismissively. “Have a look around the place. The rules said that there are ‘minimal restrictions’ on our investigations, so we should be able to go wherever we want to. So just check the school out for a bit. We can meet back here in a while.”

Although their instructions were vague, the majority of the teenagers just shrugged and got on with it. They all filed out of the auditorium and went their separate ways, each group heading off in a different direction. Eric’s group were the last to leave, and they travelled back in the direction of the foyer they had gathered in earlier. Eric was leading them as he retraced his steps back to the room he had woken up in earlier.

“Do you have somewhere in mind, Eric?” Quentin asked him.

He nodded. “Yeah. I want to see the place where I woke up. Maybe I can figure out from there what happened to me – and to us – before we came to.”

Andrea’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, so you _actually_ have a good idea? And here I was thinking you hadn’t a clue what to do.”

“I’m not just a pretty face.” Eric gave her a grin. “So, where did you all wake up?”

Frank pointed off down the corridor. “A-classroom-at-the-end-of-this-hallway. I-had-to-recalibrate-several-of-my-parts-before-I-could-leave.”

“I was in the foyer,” Andrea said, looking back over her shoulder at the hall they had just left behind them. “Actually, Quentin was the one who woke me up.”

The sketch artist nodded. “I found her there when I left the classroom I woke up in.” He jerked his head at one of the doors as they passed by it. “That one, there.”

Eric glanced at him. “You want to have a look in there?”

“Maybe on the way back,” Quentin meekly said. “It’s not a huge deal.”

“If you say so,” Eric muttered, with a shrug. “Anyway, the room I woke up in was right around…here.”

He led them into the classroom in question, which was just as he had left it; blackboard, desks, chairs, posters…everything right where it was supposed to be, iron plates on the walls and all.

Andrea gave a mocking whistle. “Impressive stuff.”

“Well, it’s not like I _chose_ the goddamn place,” the Ultimate Lucky Student reminded her, his irritation growing. “Just have a look around for a bit, alright?”

The four of them set to work, searching every inch of the classroom for any hint of what might have brought them there. As time went on, one thing became increasingly obvious to all of them, something that Quentin felt he had to be the one to point out.

“Eric, I’m sorry, but this honestly just seems like an ordinary classroom.”

“I-agree-with-Quentin. The-iron-plates-aside, this-room-does-not-deviate-from-conditions-deemed-‘normal’-by-a-majority-of-students.”

“And those things are all over the place,” Andrea muttered. “Why did we come here again?”

Eric was quickly growing fed-up with the BASE jumper. “Look, if you don’t want to be here, then just go off and do whatever you want. We don’t need to hear you complaining all the time.”

She blinked, momentarily taken-aback by Eric’s words. “But _you’re_ the one who made us split up in the first place.”

“I’m not forcing anyone into anything,” Eric declared. “I’m not like that Monobear prick, you know. If somebody doesn’t want to do something, I’m not going to make them do it.” He folded his arms. “So you don’t have to stick with us. You’re obviously not going to help us, so there’s no point in you staying if you don’t want to.”

Andrea studied the boy for a long moment, a curious expression on her face. It made Eric feel ever so slightly uncomfortable.

“What? What is it?”

She shook her head, the expression remaining where it was. “Nothing. I just realised that you might not be a _total_ idiot after all.”

Eric scoffed. “Yeah, cheers. So, are you staying here, or what?”

One corner of her mouth twisted upward in a smirk that made Eric’s heart rate quicken. “I’ll stay. You were right about me being annoying. Sorry.”

He turned his head to the side, cupping one of his ears. “I beg your pardon?”

Her smirk instantly faded. “Don’t be an ass.”

Eric grinned.

“So, what are we going to do now?” Quentin asked him, once he was sure that their bantering had ceased. “I don’t think there’s anything here for us.”

Frank boomed in his usual monotone, “Perhaps-the-other-classrooms-would-hold-more-information?”

Eric shrugged. “Yeah, we might as well check them out. Come on.”

The Ultimate Lucky Student led them out of the classroom, taking them further down the corridor.

 

***

 

“Follow me, my noble companions! Let us see what the fates have in store!”

Liam had quickly taken charge of his group, being the most extroverted member. He had galloped off ahead as though he was mounted on a steed, leaving the three other students to follow in his wake. Shane, for one, was rather bemused by the antics of the Ultimate Fencer. Kelly was attempting to calculate the number of joules of energy Liam was expending per second in his actions. Mark was most concerned about finding the school’s kitchen that he had read about before coming here.

It wasn’t long, given Liam’s pace, before they came across the first location of interest on their little journey through the school: a massive hall with towering walls and a floor covered with various lines and markings.

“This must be the PE hall,” Shane murmured, partly to himself. He was glad that the school’s facilities had been as advanced as promised. He could see all kinds of equipment around the hall, suited for all kinds of physical activities. He was certain that he could find a section of the hall where he could practise.

Liam’s eyes, however, zeroed in on a series of swords that were mounted on a wall nearby. He practically sprinted over, gasping in delight when he arrived; the swords were of unparalleled quality. There were foils and sabres, every kind of fencing sword he could hope to find, as well as a few others.

“I suppose this’ll keep you happy?” Shane asked him, with some degree of amusement.

“Verily!” the fencer agreed.

“You know, I’ve never tried fencin’ before,” the squash player told Liam, joining him in examining the wall of swords. “Any good?”

“ _Good_?!” Liam swerved to face the other boy. “My lad, don’t you know that there exists no other sport as valiant and true as fencing?! There is a keen beauty to be found in every parry, in every riposte!”

“Then maybe you should show me at some point?” Shane smiled awkwardly. “It doesn’t look like we’re goin’ anywhere soon, anyway.”

A smirk tugged at one corner of Liam’s lip. “Perhaps I shall! After all, what better way to…?” He broke off upon spotting something out of place.

“What is _this_?” Liam demanded, reaching for one of the weapons and removing it from its place on the wall. It was a falchion, modelled like the swords of old. “This is no mere fencing blade! Such an elegantly crafted weapon…!”

Even the students besides the Ultimate Fencer could see that there were a few swords that obviously weren’t intended for sport.

“Upupu! You like it?”

The fencer jumped, stifling a cry as Monobear’s voice came screeching out of nowhere. The four of them took a few steps back from the wall as the bear made his appearance in front of it, gazing in admiration at the wall of swords.

“Ahh, there’s nothing quite like a bunch of deadly weapons mounted on your wall, am I right? As I’m sure even _you_ idiots have realised, these particular blades are almost all meant for violence. It’s my way of promoting a healthy, murderous lifestyle within these walls. You guys should be happy that I care so much about you!”

And with a parting laugh, Monobear disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived on the scene. The students were left in an uncomfortable silence, which was only broken when Mark spoke up, in his rumbling voice.

“I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

Shane nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, he’s right. I think we should go.”

Not even Liam wanted to be near the wall of swords anymore. The four of them left the great hall, rejoining the corridor.

 

***

 

The group consisting of Nina, Samuel, Paige and Joan had taken another route: one leading northwards out of the foyer. Joan was leading the way, closely followed by Paige, who had latched onto the only person in the group who understood sign language. Nina still wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, but decided to follow her group around anyway. Samuel was remaining quiet, still trying to make sense of the day’s events. It was understandable, even for a gentleman of his standing, to be taken aback by the circumstances they had all found themselves in.

Their chosen corridor led them to a fork, with one hallway leading to the left, and the other to the right. The left-hand corridor was marked with a sign that said “Chemistry Laboratory”, while the other had two signs upon which the words “Cafeteria” and “Dormitories” were written. Although Samuel was keen to explore the cafeteria in search of a cup of tea, Joan set off almost immediately down the western corridor, leaving the three of them to follow after her.

“I say, dear madam, whereabouts are you in such a rush to get to?” Samuel asked her, trying to keep her pace despite being restricted by his tweed trousers.

“I’m sorry!” Joan fired the apology over her shoulder without breaking her step. “I just wanted to make sure- ah!”

She stopped in front of a large set of double doors. Hardly able to contain her glee, Joan pushed open the doors and charged inside.

“Wonderful!” the linguist enthused as she examined her surroundings – what looked to the other three teenagers like any ordinary laboratory. There were rows of seats for students to sit, along with desks (each with their own microscope apparatus) and even a number of shelves containing bottles of chemicals.

Samuel was perplexed. Judging by Nina’s dazed smile, she too was in the dark regarding the subject of the Ultimate Linguist’s enthusiasm.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, my dear,” he said. “Perhaps you might explain to us what about this laboratory has captured your interest thusly?”

Joan blinked, before meekly pushing up the bridge of her glasses. “Well, you see, I have a keen interest in chemistry. In fact, it’s my top subject – outside of languages, of course. I was just excited because I had heard about Pandora Institute’s state-of-the-art science facilities. So sorry to have kicked up a fuss!”

“Oh, nothing at all to be apologetic for, miss. ‘We all have our passions’, I always say!”

Paige signed something to Joan.

“Oh, there’s plenty I’m not good at, Paige!” She blushed slightly at the praise. “After all, there are countless languages on this planet; not even the Ultimate Linguist could possibly be fluent in every last one! For instance, I’ve never had any experience with any of the Saami languages of Finland. I’ve only started learning Manx quite recently. And heaven help anyone who would attempt to learn every last one of the Chinese dialects!” She smiled at Paige, who smiled timidly back.

While this conversation had been going on, Nina had decided to wander around the laboratory, taking in all of the different apparatuses and unusual objects to be found. She stopped in front of a large, yellow sign, beneath a set of shelves. There were instructions written on the sign, over and over again, in multiple languages. Her eyes were drawn to the section in her native Russian.

“Ah, friends! Please do come here!”

Hearing the note of distress in the girl’s voice, the three students rushed over to the Ultimate Volleyball Champion’s side.

“What is it, Nina?” Joan asked, her face etched with concern.

Nina pointed to the sign. “These words here…in Russian, they say there is _yad_.”

“Poison?!” Joan cried.

Samuel scanned the sign, reading the section that had been written in English. “By Jove, she’s right – this sign tells us that the bottles on this shelf contain deadly poisons!”

Paige clapped her hands over her mouth in shock. Even from their position, they could all see the image of Monobear’s face emblazoned on each and every bottle, grinning maniacally down at them all.

“I should have known that fiendish Monobear was behind this perversion!” Samuel hissed, clenching his fists. “What a fuc-” He stopped himself from letting out any expletives, forcing himself to remain calm. “I mean to say, it would likely be in our best interests to avoid this area for the sake of our wellbeing. We must do our utmost to warn our peers about this!”

Joan swallowed deeply, before giving a shaky nod. “Y-you’re right.”

Even Nina looked worried. “Is bad, yes? Very bad that this… _poison_ is here.”

“I agree, miss,” Samuel said. “However, that is no cause for alarm, I say. We will all be perfectly safe as long as we keep our distance from those bottles.”

Casting one last glance at the bottles on the shelf, Samuel turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the laboratory behind him. Still wary, his companions followed him out. Samuel knew that they were looking to him for strength and guidance. It was up to him to maintain a stiff upper-lip, even in these trying circumstances.

 _After all, that’s what a gentleman does,_ he told himself.

 

***

 

“Alright, everyone!” Michelle called, her clear voice echoing around the corridor as she marched along. “I am the leader of this group, which mean all of you must do _exactly_ as I say. Is that understood?”

Luc raised an eyebrow. “The ‘leader’? When did you become our leader?”

Michelle fixed the stylist with a glare that chilled him to his core.

“When I said so,” she hissed. “Now, once again, _is that understood_?”

Cursing himself for his cowardice, Luc nodded, unwilling to meet the flight attendant’s piercing gaze.

Michelle smiled that sickeningly sweet smile of hers. “There’s a good frog. Now, come along, everyone!”

She led them along a corridor that branched away from the entrance hall, taking them northwards until they reached the same intersection Joan’s group had come across. Michelle took the right turn, making for the cafeteria and dormitories. She was eager to examine the standard of the school’s accommodation facilities for herself.

But she became aware of a high-pitched voice mumbling to her from behind.

“So, hey, like…your name is Michelle, right?”

She hardly saw the need in reintroducing herself, especially to someone as worthless of her attention as the blonde girl calling herself the ‘Ultimate Hippie’. So Michelle ignored her, only for Julia to carry on.

“That’s a really nice name. I’m going to call you Shelly, from now on, okay?”

Michelle twitched, but continued her pace, not daring to look back.

“Hey, Shelly, what’s your favourite board game?”

Unable to put up with this nonsense any further, the Ultimate Flight Attendant whirled around to scowl at Julia, who seemed entirely unfazed by the hatred that Michelle was now radiating.

“Listen, _Airhead_ ,” she snapped, before she shut her eyes and attempted to rein in her fury. When she opened them again, she fixed the hippie with one of her brilliant smiles. “I really don’t think I need to be treated so disrespectfully. You can call me by my name or, preferably, never speak to me at all. Am I clear?”

Julia frowned. “What’s wrong with me calling you ‘Shelly’, Shelly?”

Michelle tried to stop her lip from curling. “As I have said, I…” She paused. Why was she even _bothering_ to explain anything to this idiot? In all likelihood, the girl was simple-minded. “Never mind,” she said, trying to keep the weariness out of her tone.

Michelle resumed her stride once again, making for the end of the corridor.

Luc caught his fourth companion’s eye, in an attempt to exchange an incredulous glance at the behaviour of the two girls. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that the final member of their group was none other than Darkessia, whose yellow eyes blazed with hatred, staring deeply into his own. Fearing for his soul, Luc quickly turned away.

After what felt like an uncomfortably long time, the corridor widened out into a room containing a handful of couches and armchairs – a lounge. At the far end of the lounge was a set of large double doors, above which was a sign marked ‘Cafeteria’. Next to those doors was another corridor that stretched off to the northeast – likely where the students’ dormitories were located.

At this point, Julia was beginning to feel rather peckish. And so, before Michelle could march off towards the dormitories, the Ultimate Hippie had begun to drift towards the twin doors.

“What are you doing?” Michelle hissed. “Get back here! You’re supposed to be sticking with _me_!”

“I can’t help it, Shelly,” Julia said, still moving towards the cafeteria doors as though she were in a trance. “My legs have a mind of their own! They need food!”

She passed through the doors, pushing them open and squeezing through before they swung shut again. Michelle stomped after her, furious.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” she shouted, pushing through the doors as well.

Luc suddenly realised that he was now alone with the Ultimate Priestess, a thought which terrified him to his core.

“I’d better go follow them!” he blurted out, not even looking at Darkessia. He all but sprinted after the two girls, bursting through the double doors without slowing down.

Darkessia was left in a dilemma: follow her idiotic companions, with the possibility of receiving sustenance in the form of delicious food, or to remain alone in the hall without any kind of edible material. In the end, her stomach made the decision for her, growling with the ferocity of a caged, starving jaguar.

The priestess gnashed her teeth, and followed the three of them into the cafeteria.

 

***

 

Eric paced back and forth in front of the stage auditorium, his arms folded tightly against his chest.

“What’s taking them so long?” he wondered aloud, for the umpteenth time, prompting Andrea to sigh.

“You know, you never actually _gave_ them a time to meet back here at,” she reminded him.

Eric squeezed his eyes shut. “I _know_! It’s just…when I said ‘a while’, I presumed that meant they’d all come back here in about half an hour.”

Andrea threw her hands up in the air. “Well, _clearly_ , you presumed wrong.”

Eric was about to fire another retort at her – an immensely witty and clever one, he hoped. However, he was interrupted by the doors of the auditorium being flung open, and the subsequent entrance of Liam and his companions.

“Salutations!” the fencer cried as he marched towards the stage, closely followed by the three students accompanying him. “I bring news of our discoveries!”

Eric groaned. “Is there anyone _other_ than him that can tell us about it instead?”

As Liam spluttered with indignation, the doors were opened again and in walked Joan’s group.

“We’re back!” the Ultimate Linguist exclaimed. “Let me tell you all about what we found!”

But before she could speak at length, the doors were flung open yet again – this time by Michelle and her ‘followers’.

Eric didn’t even bother giving the Ultimate Flight Attendant a chance to speak. He waved his arms for silence. “Alright, now we can gather round and talk about what we’ve found.”

At once, roughly eight different people began talking over each other, prompting the Ultimate Lucky Student to wave his arms frantically again.

“Hold on, hold on! One at a time!”

Michelle swept her hair over her shoulder. “Well…”

“Not you,” Eric said, cutting her off. “Luc, tell us what you found.”

And so Eric was forced to endure the flight attendant’s most dangerous glare as Luc recounted what his group had discovered on their trip through the halls.

“Ah, well…we found a, er, _cafétéria_ in the north part of the school.”

“A cafeteria?” Eric repeated. He had heard mention of Pandora Institute’s high-quality catering services – it had even been written on the brochure he had been given by the school. “Anything else?”

“ _Oui_. We found our bedrooms, but we weren’t able to enter.”

“There were, like, some super-creepy locks on the doors, man,” Julia contributed.

Eric nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay. Next group, er…Joan, tell us all about it.”

The linguist cleared her throat quietly before speaking. “We also paid a visit to the northern part of the school. There, we came across the school’s chemistry laboratory.” Her expression grew grave. “But, we must warn you all, we found something quite dangerous in the lab that you should all know about.”

“Poison,” Samuel said, rapping out the word as though it disgusted him. “No doubt it was the work of the diabolical Monobear!”

This news sent concern rippling through the group. Eric knew it was up to him, as their leader, to calm their fears.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have to say this, but I don’t want _anyone_ going near those poisons, alright? For any reason.”

There was a series of nods from around the group, and Joan spoke up.

“If you’d like, I could keep an eye on them for you? I’ll be able to tell when somebody messes around with them. I promise.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Joan.”

She stepped back, having finished her piece.

The Ultimate Fencer exclaimed, “Verily, I say, we discovered-”

“Shane, can you tell us instead?”

Liam growled, but allowed the Ultimate Squash Player to speak for their group. His irritation was diminished when Shane sent him an apologetic glance.

“Yeah, alright, Eric. We went past the auditorium…up northwest, I think. Anyway, we found the school’s sports hall. There’s all sorts of stuff there, like footballs and rugby balls, Frisbees and racquets – you know, that sort of thing. We found some sword up on the wall for fencers like Liam. But then Monobear came and he told us that the swords were meant to be used for murder.”

“That accursed ursine,” Liam snarled. “ _Accursine_ , I say!”

“Liam,” Eric called, a warning tone to his voice, “it’ll be up to you to keep an eye on those swords, since you’re the one who knows the most about them. Can I trust you to do that?”

The Ultimate Fencer regarded him coolly. “Hmph. Just what sort of careless fool do you take me for? I’ll keep watch like a bird-of-prey, like a fearsome predator who-”

“Brilliant,” Eric said, cutting the frustrated fencer off once again. “As for _my_ group, well, we went looking through the classrooms on the far side of the entrance hall, where some of us woke up earlier on.”

“We were looking for clues,” Quentin explained. “Something that might tell us how we got here.” He sighed. “But we couldn’t find anything.”

“All we found were some stairs,” Andrea said. “They’re supposed to lead to the next floor, but they’ve been blocked off. We can’t go up.”

“We-suspect-the-unit-known-as-Monobear-is-to-blame,” Frank rumbled.

“And you’d be ab-so-lutely right!”

The gathered students cried out as Monobear appeared on the scene, standing atop the same podium he had spoken to them from before.

“When I said in the School Rules that there are minimal restrictions on your investigations of the school, _that’s_ what I was referring to! But don’t worry – if you kids ‘behave’, I might just open up some new areas of the building for you to explore at your leisure. And, let me tell you, there are some _killer_ facilities in this place! It’s like living the lap of luxury. Why would anybody wanna leave?”

Eric was already growing sick of the bear’s annoying speeches. “Look, Monobear, we’re trying to sort things out at the moment. So why don’t you just piss off?”

Monobear pouted, an ugly expression. “Aww, man. You guys are mean. I was gonna tell you losers how to open up your bedrooms and everything, but now I guess I’ll just slink away.”

“Ah, excuse me, Mr. Monobear?”

Everyone turned to look at the person who had spoken – Nina.

Even Monobear was surprised. “Huh? What’s that?”

“Well, I was thinking…if you no tell us how to get into bedrooms, then we will be breaking the School Rules, yes?”

A brief silence fell in the auditorium.

“Hey, she’s right!” Andrea cried. “Monobear made it one of the rules that we _have_ to sleep in the rooms prepared for us in the dormitories. If we try to sleep anywhere else, it counts as a violation of the rules.”

Eric blinked. He hadn’t even realised that himself.

Monobear’s face was glowing a strange red colour, as though he was blushing. “Oh, silly me! I already forgot about that rule! Well, it looks like I’ll have to tell you bastards anyway.

“You see, the locks on your bedroom doors are opened using your e-handbooks. There’s one bedroom for each student – so each handbook opens one door! The rooms are numbered 1 through 16, and I assigned them in alphabetical order: Quentin is first and Samuel is last. Just in case you aren’t sure which bedroom is yours, I stuck a label on every door with the respective bedroom-owner’s name on it. Isn’t it great how I’m always looking out for you wusses?

“Oh, and as for the cafeteria, that place’ll be closed off during Night Time. I need some time to restock the place after you guys chomp your way through the day’s food supplies. Ya’ll have fun now!”

And with a wave of his paw, Monobear vanished from sight.

Nobody quite knew what to say after their headmaster’s departure. Eric knew that it was probably up to him to speak up, but he wasn’t entirely sure just what to say.

In the end, he opened his mouth to say something that he was certain would have inspired every last one of his peers, only for a loud, gurgling sound to erupt from his gut.

“Er,” the Ultimate Lucky Student said, “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m _starving_! Who wants to go to the cafeteria? I could do with a fry-up. What do you all think?”

He tried to inject as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. Luckily, it seemed to work as many of the other students realised just how hungry they were.

“That _does_ sound pretty good,” Andrea admitted with some amount of reluctance.

“Aha!” Samuel cried. “A full English breakfast is precisely what we all need, I say!”

Liam grinned. “I agree, sir!

“I don’t know about this full ‘English’ breakfast,” Shane muttered. “But I’m dyin’ to eat somethin’ at this point!”

“I’m _soooo_ hungry, you guys.”

Luc glanced at the hippie girl. “But…didn’t you just eat?”

“Yeah, but I, like, have a second stomach for bacon, Lucas,” she explained.

“L-Lucas?”

And so, with them all chattering amongst themselves, seemingly without a care, the students left the auditorium behind them.


	5. Chapter 1: Truth/Lies - Part 2

(Ab)Normal Days

Samuel tucked in to his breakfast with gusto. He savoured every last morsel – every single baked bean, every sliver of bacon. But, of course, he did it all with the utmost of poise and grace. After all, it wouldn’t do for his fellow students to see him devouring his fry-up like a pig eating slop – remarkably similar to how Eric was eating his own breakfast, much to the disgust of Andrea. Regardless, it still impressed Samuel to see that the standards of Pandora Institute’s catering facilities were up to scratch, even if the school’s staff were nowhere to be seen.

Shortly after he had sat down, a shadow passed over Samuel. He turned his head to the right to see the hulking figure of Mark, taking a seat beside him. The Ultimate Pastry Chef said nothing as he sat down, setting a plate filled with a startling amount of food down on the table in front of him. Such was the amount of bacon, tomato, beans and sausage on Mark’s plate that Samuel couldn’t even see the white porcelain beneath. Mark set down his brown paper bag beside the plate and began to tuck in, the frown that perpetually creased his forehead easing ever so slightly.

Samuel supposed that a proper gentleman wouldn’t hesitate to strike up a conversation with even the most intimidating of his peers. And so, he said, “That’s quite a full plate you have there, my lad.”

Mark regarded the Ultimate Gentleman out of the corner of his eye, saying nothing, but continuing to munch on his mouthful of bacon. Suppressing a shiver down his spine, Samuel forged on.

“I suppose an Ultimate Pastry Chef such as you must be nothing less than a connoisseur of the culinary arts? How does the quality of this institution’s meals fare against your ever so refined palate?”

Mark swallowed his mouthful, already reaching out with his fork for another. “It’s good,” he grunted, before taking another bite of bacon.

Samuel blinked. “I…see. Well, erm…”

It seemed that Mark had a talent for diffusing any effort at conversation. Samuel decided to change the subject.

“Ah, perhaps it would interest you to know that I once paid a visit to your most reputable establishment,” he told the chef. “Your restaurant – or should I say ‘patisserie’? And I simply must say how satisfied I was with the place. Never have I ever experience such a mouth-watering delight as the scone I sampled there. Coupled with the simply divine cup of tea I had…well, I didn’t at all hesitate to recommend the spot to my peers.”

It took Mark another few seconds of chewing before he responded. “Thank you.”

Again, an uncomfortable silence followed. Samuel was mentally running through a list of topics for discussion, but Mark surprised him by speaking first.

“I remember that day, you know. I remember every customer that enters my patisserie.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. And I want you to know that I appreciated your patronage. It was because of your recommendation that a scout from Pandora Institute discovered me in the first place.” Mark nodded his head in an expression of gratitude. “Thanks.”

Samuel tried to disguise how taken aback he was by the Ultimate Pastry Chef’s words by waving them away with his hand. “Oh, not at all, my dear chap. I did only what was expected of me as the Ultimate Gentleman.”

Another nod. “Okay, then.”

Were Samuel a person less than a gentleman, he would have cringed. The awkward silence that ensued was broken after what seemed like an age, when Joan stood up from her meal and began to address them all.

“Hello, everyone,” she called, making each student stop what they were doing and look up from their breakfasts. “Could I take just a few moments of your time to share some thoughts?”

“Go ahead,” Eric said, jerking his head slightly as though giving her permission to even speak.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about our current situation, and…well, you can understand that I might be a bit concerned – anxious, even – that one of us might get hurt.”

“You mean, like, if one of us is murdered, right?”

Joan flinched at Julia’s lack of tact. “Y-yes, that’s correct.”

Michelle deliberately set her spoon down with a clatter, before folding her arms and forcing one of her sweetest smiles. “You don’t trust us, do you?”

“And you’re saying you _do_ trust the rest of us?” Andrea snapped at the flight attendant. “No matter what Monobear says, we’re all basically strangers.”

“What, you think that means we’re all psychopaths?” Shane stared at Andrea in disbelief. “We’re normal people, too, you know. Just ‘cos you don’t know us doesn’t mean we’re goin’ to _kill_ you!”

“I…I just want everyone to feel safe,” Joan called out, over the rising din. “So, I just have a few suggestions we can take into account. For our own good,” she added.

“Let’s hear them,” Eric said.

“Well, firstly, I think we should all meet up here for our meals every day.”

“ _All_ of our meals?” Michelle’s eyebrows rose. “I’m quite a busy person, you know. I don’t think I have the time to pay a visit to this place every time Tubby over there decides he wants a snack!” She pointed accusingly at Mark, who showed little sign of offense apart from a slight tightening of the corners of his eyes.

“But it’s the safest way to make sure we’re all still okay!” Joan protested, growing visibly more uncomfortable with every passing second. “If we all arrange to meet at a certain time and place, and somebody doesn’t arrive, we can quickly set off and look for them to make sure they’re alright.”

“How about this,” Samuel cut in. “We shall all have breakfast in each other’s company, and the same shall go for our supper in the evenings. Surely two shared meals a day isn’t too much for anybody?”

Michelle refrained from grinding her teeth, but she was still obviously displeased. When nobody spoke up, Eric said, “Alright. Everyone has to come to breakfast and dinner every day. We can make that one of our unofficial rules – so nobody will get punished for breaking them. Does that sound good?”

There were no objections.

“Great. Monobear said that Night Time ends at seven in the morning, so I think we should meet for breakfast maybe…an hour after that? And then our dinner should be at six in the evening. That’s not so bad, right? Is that okay with everyone?”

Again, there were no protests from the gathered students. Joan, who was now regaining her confidence, smiled and spoke once more.

“Also, I think it would be best if we all stayed in our rooms during Night Time. After all, we aren’t supposed to fall asleep outside them. It’s much more prudent for none of us to leave the dormitories after ten o’clock.”

“And Monobear told us that parts of the building are closed off during the night,” Quentin added. “So there’d be even fewer places for us to go.”

Liam screwed up his mouth in an expression of frustration. “But what if I – if _any_ of us – wish to hone our skills in the dead of the night, free from any impetuous interruptions?”

Joan held up her hands in an attempt to assuage the fencer’s concerns. “If you _really_ want to, we won’t stop you, but…”

“You-would-be-making-yourself-more-likely-to-be-targeted,” Frank pointed out. “The-probability-of-a-murder-occurring-will-undoubtably-increase-during-Night-Time.”

“I…that is…!” Liam stammered, fear choking his words.

“Look, nobody is going to get killed in here, alright?” Eric said, raising his voice for everyone to hear. “I’ll make sure of it. But if having everyone stay in their rooms at night will make people feel safer, then I think we should do it. The important thing is for nobody to panic. Got that?”

Joan blew out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Eric.” She sat back down again, and conversation resumed.

But the new rules imposed by Joan and Eric had left a heavy feeling in the air. It had been the first real acknowledgement of the situation by the students, and the reality had begun to sink in – they had all been completely ensnared in a dangerous trap of Monobear’s devising.

 

***

 

Although the prospect of being trapped in a ‘mutual killing game’ terrified Quentin as much as it did everyone else, the Ultimate Sketch Artist couldn’t deny feeling a thrill as he examined his surroundings. He had finally made it to Pandora Institute – the place he had dreamed of attending for so long. And now, against all the odds, he was expected to have to fight his way out. The taste of irony was bitter on his tongue.

Still, looking around him, he nonetheless felt a surge of excitement. Many of the pages in his notebooks had been taken up by drawings of what he imagined the interior of the school would look like; very few photographs had ever been taken inside the school that were available to the public. Now that he was really here, he couldn’t wait to get started on taking it all in.

Shortly after breakfast, he decided to simply stand out in the middle of one of the corridors and study it. With a warm smile, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a miniature notepad. Another pocket held some basic pencils – he withdrew those, too. Immediately, he set to work, sketching out a basic outline for his drawing of the corridor he had found himself in. As always, he took in every detail, no matter how seemingly minor or irrelevant. That was what made him the Ultimate Sketch Artist, after all.

So immersed was he in his work that he didn’t notice the girl approaching him until she all but screamed in his ear.

“What are you doing, infidel?!”

Quentin jumped almost a foot into the air, crying out, and dropping his pencils all over the floor. As he scrambled to pick up his precious pencils, he muttered a quick, “Hello, L-Lady Darkessia!”

For of course, it was the Ultimate Priestess who had shouted at him. The girl glared furiously at him as he got to his feet, now clutching his supplies close to his chest.

“Answer me, wretch!”

“I-I was j-just sketching a picture of this hallway!” he squeaked, flinching away from her loud and rage-filled voice. “I th-thought it might-”

“What purpose would such an undertaking achieve?”

“It…it’s just something I do in my spare time, you know? A hobby.”

“ _Hobby_ , you say?” She tilted her head as though she had no understanding of the concept. “May I see this ‘sketch’ that you have conceived?”

Judging by the tone of the priestess’s voice, it was more of an order than a question.

Quentin handed her his notepad with some degree of reluctance. “I only just started it, mind you. I don’t think it’s really up to scratch just yet.”

Darkessia snatched the notepad from the sketch artist’s grip and immediately began flicking through the pages, her eyes whirring back and forth as she took in the images.

“…How intriguing. You have a unique eye for detail.”

“…Oh? Thank you.”

“However!” she snapped, almost making Quentin jump again. “These paltry designs are nothing compared to the majesty of the art contained in the Holy Scriptures.”

“Erm, when you say ‘Holy Scriptures’, are you talking about the Children of Badb’s scriptures?”

Her eyes flashed. “Of course! What other so-called scriptures would deserve to be regarded as ‘holy’ in the eyes of the His Most Horribleness, Ba’alphegorius, the Great and Terrible?”

Quentin decided to return to a topic he was more familiar with. “So, these Holy Scriptures have art in them do they? Could I maybe have a look?”

The Ultimate Priestess’s eyes narrowed distastefully, and Quentin was about to apologise for even asking. But then, she said, “As a matter of fact, you may. Perhaps gazing upon the magnificence of these awe-inspiring images will convince you to see that the Truth of Ba’alphegorius is the only way.”

_I wouldn’t count on that_ , Quentin thought, but aloud he said, “Yeah, maybe. Do you have a copy of the scriptures with you?”

“I do, as a matter of fact. We Children are obliged to carry at least one of the Divine Books around on our person whenever possible.”

She reached deeply into her white robes, fumbling around for something. What she pulled out was a single, rather ancient-looking tome, bound in leather of the blackest night. Carefully, and with a great degree of reverence, she handed the book to Quentin, who accepted it cautiously. He inspected the front cover of the tome – written in golden lettering on the cover were the words _The Divine Scriptures of the Children of Badb – Book 1: Origin_.

Darkessia eagerly explained. “This particular book details the creation of the universe as it was spawned from the Void – Great Ba’alphegorius Himself. What follows is His meeting with Badb, and later, Dahgron, the Scion of the Eternal Abyss. It even details the Great Conception, and the Birth of the First Child of Badb.”

The girl spoke with such fervour, it made Quentin nervous to even open up the tome. But pushing his fear aside, he lifted open the cover and moved onto the first page. What he saw was a picture of a man surrounded by swirling dark clouds. The man was rugged, to say the least, and his muscular body had been painted with loving detail. The man was naked, save for a cluster of black clouds to preserve his modesty.

“What you see, mortal, is a depiction of His Most Horribleness as he was at the beginning of time and space.”

Quentin gaped. “He’s, er, certainly…eye-catching.”

“Indeed. Ba’alphegorius, being Lord of the Void, cannot be comprehended in his true form by mere human beings, no matter how hard we strive to know Him. What you see in the scriptures is an artist’s representation of His majesty.” Her eyes seemed to zero in on Quentin’s face. “Well, wretch? Does this art not inspire you?”

“…”

Unable to form a reply, Quentin turned the pages until he came across another illustration. This one made him gasp aloud.

“Ah,” Darkessia crowed. “Mistress Badb, in all her glory. When Ba’alphegorius created this Universe from His home in the Void, the Dark Lady, too, was born. Is She not both regal and awesome?”

Quentin stared. He had seen nude paintings before – who hadn’t? But there was something about the way these pictures had been painted that made them less ‘artistic’ and more…‘pornographic’.

He quickly flicked through the pages, looking for the next illustration. He found it, and choked.

“This was the First Conjoining of the Divine Bodies of His Most Horribleness and the Dark Lady of the Nether. This sacred act is what created the cosmos as we know them.”

There was nothing ‘sacred’ about what was printed on the page before Quentin’s eyes. Whatever modesty had been preserved in the previous pictures had now been dispelled. The ‘Conjoining’, as Darkessia had called it, was depicted in all its gruesome detail.

Growing increasingly flustered, Quentin turned the pages again, until he found another illustration. At this point, he practically flinched, nearly dropping the tome.

“And this is the Second, Greater Conjoining – when the Three Highest Deities came together in union to conceive the First Child of Badb. The Unholy Seed of Dahgron, the Scion of the Eternal Abyss, was combined with the Original Seed of Ba’alphegorius, the Lord of the Void, within the Sacred Womb of Badb, the Dark Lady of the Nether.”

“Yes, I can see that!” Quentin yelped, finally deciding to hand the tome back to its owner.

But Darkessia went on, oblivious to the sketch artist’s discomfort. “Their uniting lasted several of what we call millennia. It is said that their cries of passion set the stars alight and many a nebula was spawned from their-”

“That’s enough!” Quentin said, holding his hands up for silence. “Please.”

Darkessia surveyed him with an unimpressed glare. “I should have known that the ethereal beauty of the scriptures would be lost on a mere boy such as you.”

“It’s not that, I swear! It’s just, well…this isn’t the kind of place where I’d usually read that, er, sort of thing.” He winced, having obviously said too much. “N-never mind…”

But the Ultimate Priestess’ expression had grown thoughtful. “Perhaps you are right, insect. It has been said that the true essence of the Holy Scriptures can only be truly appreciated and grasped in the presence of Lady Badb Herself. In other words, one of our temples.”

“A…a temple to Badb?” Quentin echoed, trying to hide his relief.

“Indeed. Once we have been liberated from this place, I shall take you there.” Her eyes gleamed with madness. “And together, we will share in the experience of the Holy Scriptures in the dark of the night.”

Air hissed from between Quentin’s teeth. “You know what? I’ll think about it.”

And with that, he turned tail and fled, retreating to his bedroom. Anything to get away from the cackling priestess, with her book full of pictures that would make even the author of the Kama Sutra blush.

 

***

 

While taking a brief stroll around the corridor later that afternoon, Luc came across Joan sitting by herself on a couch in the lounge outside the cafeteria. The Ultimate Linguist was sitting quietly, a frown fixed on her face, and looking as though she had a lot on her mind.

Luc called out to her. “Ah, Joan?”

Joan looked up, giving him a brief smile when she saw him. “Oh, Luc. How are you?”

Luc blinked, momentarily taken aback – Joan had asked the question in French. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he could speak his native tongue with her, even though she was the Ultimate Linguist. Hearing the familiar words, even with everything that had happened since that morning, caused him to relax.

“Good, good. And you?”

“Just fine, thank you.”

“That was quite a speech you made earlier, you know.”

“Well, it wasn’t much of a ‘speech’, I must say.”

“But it still took a lot of courage to stand up in front of everyone like that. Especially when they were all acting so rudely.” Luc’s distaste was plain on his face, but Joan merely shook her head.

“Not at all. And I understand why they were all behaving that way; it’s only natural that they would be afraid.” She regarded the Ultimate Stylist sombrely. “Aren’t you?”

Luc hesitated. But he had no reason to lie. “Yes. It is…difficult, being in a place like this. At first, I wasn’t so sure this was all real or not. I thought that maybe I was nervous about going to Pandora Institute, and this was all just a nightmare caused by my fears. But now I’m certain that this ‘nightmare’ is real. And, yes, that scares me.”

He sat down beside Joan on the couch, and asked her, “What about you? Do you think anyone will…?” It was too hard for him to finish the sentence.

“I don’t know,” she replied forlornly. “I believe that everyone here is a good person, I really do.”

Luc gave her a sceptical look. “Even Michelle?”

Joan cracked a wry smile. “Perhaps not Michelle. But I doubt that even she could resort to something as horrible as, well, murder.”

“But you don’t know for sure?”

Joan threw her hands up. “How can I? If Monobear told us the truth, then the last few years of our lives are missing from our memories! So I don’t remember ever meeting any of you before today. I have no way of knowing…”

Sensing that now wasn’t quite the time to broach that particular topic, Luc decided to change the subject. “You speak French very well, although I suppose that’s to be expected from the Ultimate Linguist.” He tilted his head as he regarded her for a moment. “But, I’ve heard you speak, and I don’t think English is even your first language.”

Joan blinked in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“I may not be a native Anglophone, but even _I_ have noticed the way you speak is different from the others…just a little bit.”

“Well, it’s true,” she admitted. “I grew up speaking Welsh. In fact, when it was noticed that I was learning English much faster than the other children in my village, that was the first time everyone realised I had a gift for languages.” She eyed him. “Of course, I can tell that _you_ have some talent with languages, too. You speak English just as well as you do French.”

“My mother is an English teacher,” Luc explained. “In a _lycée_ in Paris.”

Joan’s eyes lit up. “Ah, Paris! It’s been so long since I was there! Such a lovely city…did you grow up there?”

Luc nodded.

“Tell me what that was like.”

Luc smiled at the girl’s renewed enthusiasm. The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon chatting together in the lounge, enough for them both to forget about their horrible situation. Even if it was just for a little while.


	6. Student Profiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the 16 students' profiles as written in their Electronic Student Handbooks.

**Name:** Quentin Ackermann

**Height:** 173cm (5’9’’)

**Weight:** 68kg (150 lbs)

**Blood Type:** B

**Birthday:** 11 th May

**Likes:** Graffiti, soft fabrics

**Dislikes:** Closed spaces, permanent markers

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Sketch Artist

 

 

**Name:** Michelle Andrews

**Height:** 181cm (5’11’’)

**Weight:** 65kg (143 lbs)

**Blood Type:** A

**Birthday:** 25 th November

**Likes:** Skincare products, jewellery

**Dislikes:** Alcohol, rap music

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Flight Attendant

 

 

 

**Name:** Liam Cleese

**Height:** 170cm (5’7’’)

**Weight:** 72kg (160 lbs)

**Blood Type:** B

**Birthday:** 8 th January

**Likes:** Swords, fairy tales

**Dislikes:** Laziness, bullying

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Fencer

 

 

 

**Name:** Luc Cloutier

**Height:** 181cm (5’11’’)

**Weight:** 66kg (145.5 lbs)

**Blood Type:** O

**Birthday:** 14 th September

**Likes:** Classic cinema, models

**Dislikes:** Impatient people, working with children

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Stylist

 

 

 

**Name:** Shane Collyer

**Height:** 167cm (5’5.5’’)

**Weight:** 67kg (148 lbs)

**Blood Type:** B

**Birthday:** 7 th January

**Likes:** Chips, action movies

**Dislikes:** Folk music, the GAA

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Squash Player

 

 

 

**Name:** Julia Croft

**Height:** 168cm (5’6’’)

**Weight:** 50kg (110 lbs)

**Blood Type:** O

**Birthday:** 21 st October

**Likes:** Flowers, love

**Dislikes:** Violence, drugs

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Hippie

 

 

 

**Name:** Kelly Davidson

**Height:** 160cm (5’3’’)

**Weight:** 53kg (117 lbs)

**Blood Type:** B

**Birthday:** 4 th August

**Likes:** Cats, calculus

**Dislikes:** Art, open spaces

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Human Calculator

 

 

 

**Name:** Eric Felikson

**Height:** 183cm (6’0’’)

**Weight:** 72kg (159 lbs)

**Blood Type:** AB

**Birthday:** 11 th April

**Likes:** Pretty girls, popcorn

**Dislikes:** Death, being afraid

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Lucky Student

 

 

 

**Name:** Mark Hopkins

**Height:** 196cm (6’5’’)

**Weight:** 92kg (203 lbs)

**Blood Type:** O

**Birthday:** 3 rd July

**Likes:** Sugar, clean surfaces

**Dislikes:** Coffee, thunderstorms

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Pastry Chef

 

 

 

**Name:** Nina Markovic

**Height:** 190cm (6’3’’)

**Weight:** 78kg (172 lbs)

**Blood Type:** A

**Birthday:** 9 th February

**Likes:** Beachwear, laboratories

**Dislikes:** Language barriers, cold weather

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Volleyball Champion

 

 

 

**Name:** Paige Martin

**Height:** 163cm (5’4’’)

**Weight:** 56kg (124 lbs)

**Blood Type:** A

**Birthday:** 7 th October

**Likes:** Chocolate, classical music

**Dislikes:** Crowds, her own impairment

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Cellist

 

 

 

**Name:** Agnes Smith

**Height:** 165cm (5’5’’)

**Weight:** 48kg (106 lbs)

**Blood Type:** O

**Birthday:** 6 th June

**Likes:** Darkness, art

**Dislikes:** Nonbelievers, her birth name

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Priestess

 

 

 

**Name:** Frank Steiner

**Height:** 198cm (6’6’’)

**Weight:** 120kg (265 lbs)

**Blood Type:** A

**Birthday:** 30 th August

**Likes:** Electronics, video games

**Dislikes:** Salt water, loud noises

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Robotic Technician

 

 

 

**Name:** Joan Rösler-Tate

**Height:** 171cm (5’7.5’’)

**Weight:** 74kg (164 lbs)

**Blood Type:** B

**Birthday:** 1 st January

**Likes:** Foreign culture, ketchup

**Dislikes:** Losing her glasses, awkward silences

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Linguist

 

 

 

**Name:** Andrea Thomas

**Height:** 173cm (5’9’’)

**Weight:** 64kg (141 lbs)

**Blood Type:** AB

**Birthday:** 8 th January

**Likes:** Jumpsuits, butter

**Dislikes:** Planes, religion

**Special Ability:** Ultimate BASE Jumper

 

 

 

**Name:** Samuel Worthington

**Height:** 180cm (5’11’’)

**Weight:** 67kg (148lbs)

**Blood Type:** A

**Birthday:** 21 st April

**Likes:** Tea, civilised conversation

**Dislikes:** The working class, fizzy drinks

**Special Ability:** Ultimate Gentleman


	7. Chapter 1: Truth/Lies - Part 3

(Ab)Normal Days

Later that evening, Liam was on his way to the PE hall. He’d had his fill of breakfast, lunch and dinner, and had decided that now was the best time to begin his daily training. He was the Ultimate Fencer, and he hadn’t acquired that title with talent alone; hard work and effort had made him the man he was today. It wouldn’t do for him to neglect his training – even if he was trapped inside the twisted nightmare of a fiendish monster like Monobear.

As he strode down the corridor in the direction of the sports hall, he passed by the Ultimate BASE Jumper. He didn’t pay her any mind, but it was the person he came across next whose presence brought his journey to a halt.

Liam pointed furiously at them. “Eric Felickson! You dastardly braggart!

Eric rolled his eyes and kept walking, only for Liam to leap in front of him with his arms outstretched to either side, barring him from passing.

“Stop, knave! I cannot let you pass so easily!”

Eric was looking over the fencer’s head at the girl who was moving away towards the entrance hall. “What do you want?” he asked, irritation creeping into his tone.

“We have a score to settle!”

“Do we?” Eric stepped to one side, only for Liam to immediately mirror him.

“That’s correct!” Liam fixed the other boy with an angry glare.

“Listen, mate, that’s great and everything, but can this wait? I’m trying to-”

“No, fool, this confrontation is of the utmost importance and cannot be delayed!”

Eric gritted his teeth in frustration as Andrea turned the corner and disappeared from view. Finally regarding the Ultimate Fencer with his full attention, he stared him down.

“What ‘confrontation’? What are you talking about?”

“Our fated clash! We, two sworn enemies, are destined to duel to the finish! Or at least until grievous injury!”

“Sworn enemies?” the Ultimate Lucky Student echoed in disbelief. “Are you serious? Mate, I barely even _know_ you. This is, what, our _second_ conversation ever?”

“But don’t you seeth with rage as I do?” Liam, now seeing that the boy had stopped trying to get past him, dropped his hands to his side. “Doesn’t your blood _boil_ with the fires of indignation?”

“Er…not really.”

Liam sighed. “Can’t you see we are destined to be eternal foes? Me, the powerful and mighty Ultimate Fencer, versus you, the arrogant and lacklustre Ultimate Lucky Student.”

Eric’s eyebrows rose. “Now, hold on a second. The only arrogant person I see here is _you_. I’m more humble than anyone I know! And what is your problem with my title?” His eyebrows sank back down again as his face settled into a knowing expression. “You’re not _jealous_ , are you?”

Liam barked a laugh that was just a little bit too loud. “Of _what_? Some poor fool who attends a school filled with some of the greatest talent the world has ever seen, simply because of something as intangible and irrelevant as ‘luck’?!”

Eric leaned down, holding the fencer’s imperious gaze. “Listen, mate, I’ve got more talent in this finger than you do in your entire body.” He displayed the finger in question to Liam – the longest one on his right hand.

“Such a declaration demands proof!” Liam snarled.

“Fine, then!” Eric snapped, pulling out a two pound coin from his pocket. “Heads or tails?”

Liam rolled his eyes. “You truly believe such a mundane display can be considered evidence of your prowess?”

“Heads. Or tails.”

“…Very well. Heads.”

Eric flipped the coin, not even bothering to watch it tumble through the air above his head. He knew he’d be able to catch it, and so he did. He slammed the coin down on his other wrist, before moving it away to reveal the tail side of the coin.

Liam scoffed, prompting Eric to say, “Take it. _You_ have a try.”

The fencer did so, snatching the coin out from between Eric’s fingers. He tossed the coin, just as Eric had, and called “Tails.”

The coin came up heads.

Liam growled, and he tossed the coin again.

“Heads.

The coin came up tails.

“Heads!”

Tails again.

“Heads!” Liam shouted, and flinching when it came up tails for the third time in a row.

Not one to give up easily, Liam flipped the coin yet another time. As the coin reached the apex of its flight, Eric called out, “Edge.”

Liam gave him a surprised glance, and so he fumbled the coin when it landed in his hand. It dropped to the floor, where it bounced once, twice, three times, landing on its edge each time. The coin revolved slowly on the tiled floor, mocking him.

“Keep it,” Eric said, a smile curling his lips. “Whenever you think of me, just give it a flip. I bet it’ll come up heads every time.”

And with that, he stepped smoothly past the Ultimate Fencer and continued his walk down the hallway, leaving Liam fuming behind him.

Liam’s face was burning red, both with shame and anger. He hadn’t taken his eye off the coin on the floor. Only when the Ultimate Lucky Student’s footsteps had faded out of earshot did he reach down and pick up the coin. Glaring at the profile of the Queen that shone in his palm, Liam snatched it, moved it onto his thumb as he closed his fist, and flipped the coin. He caught it in midair, not even bothering to turn it over, and examined it once again. It was heads.

Shoving the hated coin into his pocket, he started towards the sports hall.

 

*** 

 

Kelly was sitting by herself in the classroom she had woken up in approximately twelve hours and forty-three minutes beforehand, silently pondering her situation. She had to admit that, despite her gift for foresight, she could never have extrapolated this particular outcome from previous events in her life. In fact, the idea of a maniacal, robotic bear taking over the school and forcing its students to play a vicious game of ‘mutual killing’ was beyond illogical – it was ludicrous. But it was difficult to deny what her own senses were telling her to be true.

Of course, it was certainly possible that this was all one great hallucination, in which case, reality could not be trusted. That was her reason for coming into this classroom. She had taken out her pen and paper, and had spent the next few hours writing, to the point that she had constructed the set of real numbers from basic axioms. She pored over her work, trying to verify its completeness. Sure enough, her calculations and proofs all worked out. If that was the case, then it was doubtful that the reality she currently perceived was false. Perhaps it was time for a different approach?

Kelly was absorbed in her work, her eyes burning holes into the paper beneath her pen, to the extent that she didn’t hear Shane push the door open and enter the classroom. The Ultimate Squash Player had to clear his throat to grab her attention.

“Er, hi,” he said, once she had lifted her gaze from her writings. “You’re Kelly, right? The Ultimate Human Calculator?”

The look she was giving him through her thick glasses made Shane feel as though he was being scanned by a machine.

“Correct,” she said, after a few seconds. “You are Shane Collyer.”

He smiled. “That’s right. So, er, what are you up to?”

“Constructing the set of real numbers using Dedekind cuts.”

Trying to pretend he had understood what Kelly had just said, Shane nodded. “Right. Can I ask why?”

Kelly adjusted her glasses ever so slightly. “Passes the time adequately. Also provides…comfort, perhaps.”

Ah, well that wasn’t too hard to understand. It looked like the Ultimate Human Calculator was feeling just as anxious as the rest of her peers.

Shane jerked his head towards a nearby chair. “Is it alright if I…?”

Kelly simply stared back in her usual way.

“…Sit down?” He finished awkwardly.

“Permission granted,” she replied, almost robotically.

With Kelly’s stare still uncomfortably fixed on him, Shane sat down in the chair, pulling it over to join her. He peered down at the mess of symbol and words on the sheet of paper before the girl, and he grimaced.

“Ugh. I’ve never really had much of a head for maths, you know.”

“Understandable. Talents differ between individuals. Doubtless I would perform poorly in a squash game.”

A smile tugged at Shane’s cheek. “You might be right. But, well, maybe you could show me a few things about all this? I’m never goin’ to get better at maths if I don’t learn more about it. And who better to tutor me than yourself?”

Kelly seemed to consider this proposal for a moment, like working out a calculation in her brain. “Wish to learn more about mathematics? Could spare time. Time clearly not scarce resource.”

“So…is that a ‘yes’?”

“Yes.”

Shane beamed. “Fantastic! I’ve always wanted to learn from someone as brilliant as the Ultimate Human Calculator!”

“Will begin immediately,” Kelly said. “First, questions. Familiar with Complex Analysis?”

He blinked. “Er…not really.”

“Field Theory?”

“No.”

“Number Theory?”

“No.”

“Fundamental Euclidean Geometry?”

“I...don’t think so.”

Kelly made a sound that almost resembled a sigh. “Will start there. Must establish axioms and familiarise student with basic propositions.”

Despite his excitement, Shane was beginning to wonder what he had gotten himself into. The odd pair spent a long time together in the classroom, only bringing their lesson to an end when the now-familiar voice of Monobear burst from a loudspeaker on one of the classroom walls.

_“Attention, everyone! It is now ten o’clock. Night Time has officially begun. The cafeteria is now locked and off-limits to all students. Good night, you worthless idiots!”_

On cue, the lights in the classroom, and all throughout the school, dimmed, leaving the two students in a slight gloom.

Shane stood up from his seat. “We’d better get movin’. Remember what Joan said – we should all stay in our rooms during Night Time.”

“Understood. First lesson concluded.”

Shane gave the girl a brief smile as they walked out of the classroom together, making for the dormitories. “Thanks for your help today. It meant a lot.”

“Sentiment acknowledged.”

Shane winced. As much as he had honestly wanted to learn more about maths, part of the reason why he had approached Kelly was an attempt to get her to open up. After all, if they were going to be trapped in this place for as long as Monobear claimed, then it wouldn’t do for them all to remain cold and distant with each other. But so far, it didn’t seem like he had made very much progress with the Ultimate Human Calculator.

He glanced at the girl, only to be taken aback by what he saw. The corners of Kelly’s mouth had curled upwards ever so slightly from their default position, and the corners of those big, round eyes had crinkled just a little bit. It was small, but definitely noticeable –a smile.

“Pleased with progress made today,” she told him. “Basics of Euclidean postulates covered, will proceed to derivations and theorems at later date.”

“Oh, right. I don’t really know what that means, but cheers.”

And so the two of them walked back to their rooms, leaving the darkening halls behind them.

 

*** 

 

Andrea was woken up the next morning by a shrill voice that came screaming out of the loudspeaker in her bedroom.

 _“Wake up, you useless layabouts! It’s seven o’clock – another_ beautiful _morning in the Institute of Despair! Time to get up and seize the day!”_

The Ultimate BASE Jumper groaned into her pillow.

 _That’s bound to drive me insane,_ she thought, as she pushed herself up off her bed.

She had an hour to kill before breakfast was due to begin, although there wasn’t anything actually stopping her from getting something to eat before then. But she supposed that it wouldn’t be fair to Joan or the others if she did that. So she went ahead with her morning exercise routine before soaking in a nice, hot shower. She took as much time as she wanted in the shower, knowing that whoever was behind all this was likely paying the heating bills. By the time she was finished getting ready, it was close to eight o’clock anyway, and so she made her way over to the cafeteria. When she arrived, she found that it was mostly empty, aside from a few early-risers – including Liam, Frank, Samuel and Nina, who smiled and waved when she saw that Andrea had entered.

“Good morning, my friend!” she cried with great enthusiasm. “It is pleasing to see you again!”

Andrea nodded as courteously as she could, but said nothing back, not particularly being in the mood for conversation. The Ultimate BASE Jumper grabbed herself a bowl of cereal and sat down, groaning internally when the blonde girl followed her and took the seat next to her.

“I hope you are not minding me sitting here?” she asked, only for Andrea to shake her head.

“Not at all,” she responded, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice as she poured milk into her cereal. “In fact, why don’t you tell me _all_ about yourself, Nina?”

But her sarcasm failed to penetrate the Ultimate Volleyball Champion’s skull. “Oh, if you don’t mind? Well, I was born in the town near Murmansk, in Russia. You know Murmansk, yes? Is very cold place. When I was being small girl, my mama and papa take me on vacation to, ah... _Gretsiya_?”

“You mean Greece?” The Russian word wasn’t too different from the Spanish name for the country.

“Yes, that is right. Greece is lovely place during summer months, and there I first see volleyball being played. Ever since, I am having the dream of becoming Ultimate Volleyball Champion.”

Andrea scooped a mouthful of cereal into her mouth. “Yes, that’s all...very interesting.”

Again, Nina completely missed the sarcasm in Andrea’s tone. “Thank you!” The blonde’s expression grew solemn. “But, my papa...he does not like this, I know. He is wanting me to be nuclear physicist, like him. So I am following in his footsteps before being accepted by Pandora Institute.”

Andrea almost choked on her cereal. “I’m sorry...did you say ‘nuclear physicist’?”

Nina nodded. “Yes, I am learning all about nuclear physics and reactors. Nuclear power plants are big industry in Russia, you see. My papa wants bright future for me and our country.” The girl sighed. “I love my papa and his work very much, and physics very interesting area for me. But I love volleyball too. I may be breaking papa’s heart by my coming to Pandora.”

Andrea set her spoon down as she processed all of this information. “Nina...I think I owe you an apology.”

“Hmm?”

“All this time, I got the impression you were this vapid, blonde bombshell. I...I realise that was probably very presumptuous of me. I’m sorry?”

“Ah...I do not think I am understanding. You think I am...‘bombshell’?”

“I...no, never mind.” Andrea smiled at the girl. She spoke this time with sincerity. “Tell me more about yourself.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nina tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. “I hope I am being understood by you? I find it hard to speak English, you know?”

Andrea waved a hand to reassure her. “Don’t worry about it. I grew up speaking Spanish, so I used to be the same as you.”

The volleyball player brightened. “Oh! Then we are alike, no? Like _sestry!_ ”

Andrea wasn’t too sure what the other girl meant, but she smiled and nodded regardless. “That’s right. So, what is it like, being the Ultimate Volleyball Player?”

Nina was only too happy to explain. The two girls spent breakfast chatting away to each other, even as the other students came in to join them. Eric tried in vain to join in on the conversation, only to be shut out, to his dismay. When breakfast time ended, Nina and Andrea left the cafeteria and made for the lounge, where they continued their conversation in peace.


End file.
